


Tarnished Flowers That Smells Like You

by Amelora



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Sweethearts, Drug Dealing, Flowers, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Murder Mystery, Omander - Freeform, Permanent Injury, Racism, Smuggling, mentally disabled, nadia and omar are not siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 83,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelora/pseuds/Amelora
Summary: Ander is the prime suspect in a murder. The deceased is his own father.----------------This story tells of two different times, when Ander and Omar were childhood friends and when they were reunited after years later.
Relationships: Ander Muñoz & Omar Shana, Ander Muñoz/Omar Shana
Comments: 72
Kudos: 102





	1. Nomad and Migrant

  * **21 October 2004**



Daylight had turned to dark, dark had turned to sunlight. He could not distinguish day and night, hours or even days. Maybe he even forgot that the season is autumn. Or that there are bills to pay after a few days. His world was upside down. In just a few days he felt that a few years of his life were gone. But these were just the beginning.

There were yellow lanes used by the police all over the house. Places marked with black paint ... And not a single place in the house is like he left it. He never understood why the clothes were messy in his bedroom. While his room was very tidy on the day of the incident, it was now messy from all the rooms, even the room where the corpse was found.

In fact, he no longer wanted have anything on his mind. He put all his clothes on the floor and some of his belongings, which he thought might be necessary, in a large bag. A tennis bag with his name on it. He still had no idea why he was using it. Or why he want to travel with this bag. Moreover, while this bag is one of the things that reminds him of his father the most right now, he did not know if he really needed this bag. He could not think much anymore. He had no time.

There was a click from one of the other rooms. Or that click came from the hallway. He couldn't even be sure what he was hearing anymore. He was so panicked that the first thing that came to his mind was his father murderer. So he picked up an object he saw at that moment in the his bedroom and moved towards where the sound came from.

But that person was not who he thought of. That person was the detective he had memorized his facial features for the past few days. His first thought about this man was that he was too old. At least as much as his father. No. He was older than his father.

"You were thinking of blowing up that thing in my head?" the detective said sarcastically.

Ander left the hard object in his hand to the place he saw closest to him. He answered the detective as he returned to his room. He tried to show the detective that he was tired of it with every move. Although his facial expression was obvious enough.

"I was thinking of blowing up in the head of the man who trespassed, not yours." this was actually one of Ander's answers to the questions asked in the interrogation room for several days. He made some reference to this.

"Both are the same thing, young man."

Ander looked at the man wearily. He grunted with vexation strongly and went back to his room to collect the things. He was sure the man was following him too.

"Can I find out why you came here? I thought you accumulated evidence enough."

He spoke loudly to the man as he collected his belongings. Although he knew why he was here, he did not want it to be a tense environment at the moment, so he preferred to speak. The silence meant a tense environment for him.

He heard the man cough several times. These were coughs strong enough to rip a person's throat. He suddenly questioned why such a man took this case.

"The crime scene always whispers something, Young Muñoz."

"Young Muñoz?" Ander had been learning new nicknames that were said to him over the past few days. But that was what did not like the most.

"I don't think we are close enough to say your name."

Ander chose not to think about the nickname the man had told him. Instead, he wanted to refer to what he said first.

"You said the crime scenes were whispering something to you, right?" he hesitated. "What is this place whispering to you?"

Ander heard the detective chuckle a few times. Then he answered Ander with his deep voice.

"It whispers that you don't have a good relationship with your father, Young Muñoz."

This time it was Ander who was giggling.

Ander had stopped tidying his clothes for a moment. He thought "Whatever" after the man's reply. He went back to gathering his clothes again. Everything seemed ready. He came face to face with the detective as he left the door of his room. He really didn't like this man's face.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Do you really think I can stay in this house?"

Ander pointed around with his hands. The house was both a messy and complete crime scene. And for Ander's current psychology, this was the worst place to stay. But for a killer, this could have been an escape plan. Ander is now the prime suspect in the eyes of the police.

The man looked around as Ander had shown. Then he replied with one breath.

"No." He hesitated a little. "But how will I know if you are going to run, Young Muñoz?"

Ander was tired of these allusions, accusations, and more. Events were a dead end for him. Suddenly, he was exposed to the hostile looks of everyone. The rumors of his neighbors reverberated in his mind this morning. Talking about how good a boy he was, his neighbors were now cursing him. Whoever destroyed his life was cursing him in Ander.

"I'll give you an instant report, Detective."

The detective coughed again. He began to speak without stopping the rumbling sounds in his throat.

"I can't tolerate you leaving the city."

Ander felt his nerves tested. He didn't often experience such angry moments in his life. He was a very calm man. But at this time, they were testing his anger.

"I do not leave the city. I will go to a town near here."

"Near someone in your family?"

"Do you think one of my family members will welcome me right now?" Ander seemed to inflict pain on himself as he asked the question. He understood how reversed everything was. He had never felt more in need of his compassion, affection, and tolerance. Maybe that's why he was going over to _him_.

Detective did not answer Ander's question. He could not empathize with his prime suspect, but he knew. Nobody would want someone called a father killer at home. _Where was he going then?_

"Then who will you go to?"

Ander thought for a long time what to answer. He put his hands to his hair. He scratched his head then rubbed his eyes.

"I'm going to a town with people I don't know. I want to breathe, and nobody I know is helping me."

The detective was not happy with the answer. But Ander knew he couldn't waste any more time with him. He had been holding the taxi for half an hour.

"Look sir, if you have any other problems with me, you have all my personal information. You can reach me at any time. I have to go right now."

Ander took a few steps towards the outer door of the house. He hurried past the detective. The outer door had been left open at intervals for several days. The gap had widened even more when the detective came in, and Ander thought he could walk through that gap with ease. It was so, but the detective stopped Ander one last time.

"Good luck, Mr. Munoz, you will need this a lot."

Ander only nodded to the man. He left the house without looking back. He didn't want to examine again what was happening around. He didn't want to look again where he found the corpse. He wanted to forget everything but forget everything. That day, his father, his life in mess ... Everything ... But most of all, he was going to the side of the crimes he wanted to make amends. Although none of them have redress.

\---

He was watching the landscape flowing from the car window. He remembered how familiar even this road looked. All of these landscapes were buried in the most remote places of his brain. He killed them one by one and buried them in the most remote parts of his brain. Even these landscapes hurt him. Even these landscapes were reviving those strange feelings in him.

Then, for a brief moment, he saw that dilapidated house he had visited the most in his childhood. In that brief moment, everything seemed the same. But it was just a game of his brain. His brain had shown him what he wanted to see.

He told the taxi driver to stop. He hurried out of the car. He was comfortable with almost coming to town. As a child, he often walked this road and came to this dilapidated field. But this land he remembered in his childhood had changed. Instead of that dilapidated building, there was a shanty house under construction. Ander felt disappointed. He still didn't know why he had passed away from his life here. There was something he said to himself often at that time. "I'm going to fix my life sinking in this mess." This was the only thing on his mind when he went to the city. His life had sunk even more, instead of getting better as he thought. And Ander had never been able to get that life he wanted.

\---

  * **21 October 1991**



There was a lot that the curly-haired boy disliked about this place he moved to. He could not believe that his mother and father came here to teach. He could not believe that the walls of his school were repainted. He could not believe the heavy smell of the school and the scruffy state of the students. There were many things he didn't like about this place.

He had no trouble making friends. Somehow the girls were getting attention and preventing him from being alone, no matter how much he didn't talk to them. But the men were odd. He had heard heavy insults that he hadn't heard until he got there. He thought he should complain to the teachers. But one of the things he did not like about this place was that everyone - both adults and children - had let in scolds, warnings, and insults.

But besides those tons of things he didn't like, there was another big point that caught his attention. Immigrants...

In fact, most of the people living here were immigrants. And some still didn't know how to speak spanish. This was the reason why Ander did not communicate with immigrant adults. He didn't know how to speak to someone who didn't know his language. It was too much for a shy person like him.

And today he was at school again. Monday. He wanted something to spice up his tormented school life. With any friendship this torment could pass. Her mother had at least given that advice. And his father had some advice about sports. He said it was in vain for him to care for other children. He said that if he is already interested in a sport, things will be easier for him in the future. Ander didn't feel sporty at all. Sometimes he didn't even feel like himself. How could he say this to his family?

He was sitting there while looking at the view outside. The short-haired girl who has been with him the most recently was there again. She had passed to one of the desk close to him for talk with him.

This girl's conversation was normal. They were asking each other how they were and just talking about the usual things. But one girl who joined them, one of the other Spaniards in the class, spoke her hatred of immigrants in every conversation. No matter how much Ander tried to change the subject, that subject was definitely coming to the dirt of immigrants. And Ander felt overwhelmed.

Ander was breathing a sigh of relief when his playtime was over. Talking to girls no longer occupied and relaxed him. He was turning that day into torture. Ander felt more tired each time.

Someone was late for the class again. But Ander wasn't interested in the students of the teacher angrily scolded at the moment. He knew that those students who were late in the class would get one of punishments they received. But that didn't happen. Ander heard a slap in the silence in the classroom. Immediately all his attention was on the students -no, only one student- across the board. Homever Ander was sure that the three people were late. He thought, _why didn't teacher slap the others..._ He thought he was also an immigrant. But this was no reason for the teacher to slap him, the class laughed out loud about the incident. For the first time, Ander thought, with a thousand question marks in his head, that something caught his attention at school. 

Ander was watching the boy while the teacher tried to silence the unabated laughter and sarcasm in the classroom. That boy with no change in his facial expression. He neither had a face like the students who cried for hours at the teacher's slap, nor did he show that he was being ridiculed. He was imperturbable enough to chill Ander's blood. But these weren't the only things that caught his attention. This boy was the most beautiful boy he had ever seen.

\---

  * **21 October 2004**



Ander was going where his feet dragged him. He saw that there were groups on the right and left sides of the asphalt road. Different groups ... While someone was having fun with bottles of drinks, the groups on the other side were trying to warm up in front of the fire they lit. Ander thought that the only way he could find the person he was looking for was through these groups. Actually, this was a very reckless, very inconsiderate idea. He knew he was just moving. His life was telling him that there was nothing to care about anymore, no more time to think.

At first he moved towards the group around the fire. There was an extremely scary air above that group. And yes definitely these were immigrants. He heard that they were speaking Arabic, Persian ... Or a similar language. After all, both languages were common here.

It didn't take them long to notice Ander. They were even examining him as he walked along that road. Their movements changed when they realized that he was moving towards them.

"You are immigrants, right?" Ander started directly with this question. It was not a good way to greet people. But he didn't think he could ponder that.

Of course, no one answered. Ander cursed inside. He questioned why here still immigrants do not speak Spanish.

This time he asked louder. It was as if they would understand what you said out loud.

"You are Arabs, right?"

Several of them had now nodded to him. A faint smile appeared on Ander's face. He felt relief. He was one step closer to him.

"Where can I find Omar?"

Again there was no answer. But he knew they understood. Because he could hear them whispers.

Ander was angry. He raised his voice.

"Where can I find Palestinian Omar?"

One of them turned to him and spoke in sloppy Spanish.

"Which Omar?"

Ander felt annoyed. It was comforting that one of them knew a little Spanish. He took a deep breath. He noticed a more clearly Spanish-speaking man approaching him before he raised his voice once more and responded with more intense anger.

"Hey buddy, are you Spanish?"

Ander was sure now that everyone here was here to piss him off.

"Do I look like an Arab from there?"

"Man, looking from here, you look like a Greek God." Ander rolled his eyes. He didn't like the man's sarcastic demeanor. But at least he was sure he had met someone from Spain.

"I'm not complimenting, man, you know. Look around, do you see a single beardless man here?"

"It is not my problem. It is the problem of those here." Ander felt he was getting bored. That Spaniard was already starting to grab her by the arm and tug.

"Anyway, you said Omar, right? Which Omar are you looking for?"

Ander pulled the man's hand, which he held his arm. He shouted loudly towards the man's face.

"Damn! How many Omar's are in this fucking field?"

"Take it easy, champ. Believe me, there's a lot more Omar than you think. You have to tell me his last name. Do you know his full name?"

"Of course I know, for god's sake."

Ander realized that this anger scared him, but it didn't affect the man in front of him. Moreover, the man was very calm to Ander. He used to think that people here are very prejudiced. Apparently, these places had turned into a different place than before.

Ander tried to contain his anger. He rubbed his temples for a short time. He turned back to the man in front of him.

"Omar Shanaa. I'm looking for Omar Shanaa. He's a Palestinian."

He saw the man's gaze change. His hand was right up to his chin. He heard him mutter to himself. He turned his back to Ander for a short moment. Ander promptly asked him a similar question.

"Do you know where I can find him?"

He immediately answered Ander's question. He turned to face him. And this time, Ander saw that the man had a shiver on his face.

"You are looking for one of the leaders."

It was not a question. It was a self-reaction of the man. Apparently, he did not expect such a thing from Ander. Ander, on the other hand, was the only thing on his mind to find him. As soon as possible...

"Whatever. Where can I find him?"

The man hesitated for a few minutes. He looked around. He took Ander's arm again and started tugging at him. This time they were moving in the opposite direction.

"Come with me."

Ander listened to what the man had to say about Omar along the way they were walking. He seemed unemotional, did not respond to speech for a long time, or would not respond at all if he did not like the other person ... Most of these were familiar to him. And most people would only see that form of Omar. But that familiar feeling felt that way to some extent. The features he did not know started to count. He was one of the most surprising things that he should not call Omar by name, but "Boss". He said that he was especially respected here, and that even though he led the immigrant groups, especially those who do not speak Spanish, everyone regarded him as a leader. However, Christian did not say why they called Omar "Boss". Either he did not know this reason, or he did not care. But Ander both wanted to know and cared. He said about friendship that Omar did not have such a person, although he was not in any of these groups. According to this boy, Omar was isolating himself from other people. That's why he asked Ander. Why he looking for him ...

However, he had not wait for his reply. Because Ander had waited too long. For a very long time. And this man didn't know about the thing called patience. He said that if he was going to talk to Omar on business, he was definitely not the right person. Although he was the person who listened most to people, he was the one who refused most. He also advised Ander on one more subject. And Ander had never, ever heard of it. He should never have had physical contact with Omar. Ander wanted more to talk to _him_ now.

The man stopped before the wide door of a dilapidated building -Ander was sure this was an active factory when he was a kid-. One of the rare sturdy things in the building stood like a door.

"You wait here." he heard the man mutter. Ander could not answer. There was no anger at the moment that he could not find Omar anymore. He also knew that the reason for his immediate anger was the tension. He would see him again years later.

The man took a few steps and then turned back to Ander.

"Oh, I forgot. What was your name?"

"Ander Muñoz."

Ander said, although he thought it would be better not to say his name. Then he wished he hadn't said it.

"I'm Christian. I hope I will be glad to meet you, Ander."

Then he went a few more steps. And he came back like he forgot something again.

"And if you also look for me, I'm the only Christian here so you can find me comfortably."

"I don't think that will happen, the only Christian here."

He could see Christian giggling. But Ander was now extremely nervous and didn't know how to feel. When Christian entered the factory, Ander thought he was completely lost. Or maybe his sight had darkened. Or maybe he was the one who lost at that moment. He knew that his soul was lost here. But at that moment he felt everything was falling apart. It crossed his mind that this waiting would be his end.

\---

When Christian entered, he saw Omar sitting with the others. Usually when someone came here, Christian would shout this out to everyone. But this time he understood that the situation was different.

Omar noticed Christian while talking to the others. In fact, since all three of the leaders were here, Christian was rather hesitant to say someone was waiting for Omar.

One of the leaders clearly disliked Christian's glaring at them. This was just someone who led the Spaniards.

"What the hell do you want, dumb?"

"There is someone who wants to see Boss." 

Christian said quickly. Omar's gaze at him changed.

"Who?" When the others started talking among themselves, Omar asked him.

"Ander Muñoz." Christian continued to speak, ignoring Omar's freezing, sudden change in facial expression. "He told me he wasn't coming for work. But I don't know why he came, he was just looking for you and I brought him here."

And Omar was acting very strangely. He seemed to be surrounded by a sudden shiver. It was obvious that they could not stay still when their hands moved to his mouth and face. Christian knew there was something wrong. The leaders did not like this.

"I can kick him out of here if you want."

"No." Omar responded instantly. He couldn't turn him back when he was here. Still, he was fighting his own inner struggle.

"Uhm... He..." His voice was trembling. "Where is he?"

\---

When Omar came into Ander's sight, someone seemed to tie a rope around his throat and pull him. He was coming towards him with futile steps. It was in his composure when he first saw him. He had the same self-confidence that did not lean his head forward while everyone humiliated him as when he first saw him. But the closer he got ... he saw more clearly. He could see more clearly. Not all was like when he first saw him. Even in the absence of signs of pain at the moment when he first saw him slap in the face, he now seemed tortured. As if he would fall on his knees at any moment. Like he will break at any moment.

Then Omar stood right in front of him. Ander's eyes were on the stones on the ground now. He did not know how to look at his face. He heard Omar's fragile voice. He had spoken to the voice of a tiny boy when he should have fired him angrily now.

"What are you doing here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English isn't my language. So I know there will be many mistakes. I apologize for that.  
> This is going to be a long story. I cannot guess how many chapters there will be.  
> I know some things may confuse you, but things will become clearer as the story unfolds.  
> I'd be very glad if you could say your thoughts :)


	2. Father Murderer and Mother Murderer

  * **21 October 1991**



Ander had found something of his interest. No. Ander had found someone that piqued his interest. He wondered why the students were laughing at him insultingly. He wondered why the teacher just slapped someone who was late. He wondered how he could stand so strong when everyone around him humiliated him so much. Ander was curious about him. He wondered why he looked so beautiful.

The only thing he could pay attention to the whole lesson was that boy in the back desk. He was sitting in one of the back desks so he could not observe him often. When he turned around, he was afraid that either the teacher would notice or someone would warn him. Moreover, he was new and foreign here. There were too many things he embarrassed and feared. He had to find a way to talk to him.

Then a thought reappeared in his head. What if he's deaf-mute, he can't speak… People would make fun of lamiger. Ander figured out the reasons for making fun of him. But what about the teachers? Ander thought again. Teachers should not have treated the lamigers like that in his mind. He thought he should definitely talk to him. Playtime was the perfect time for this.

Ander turned quickly when the bell rang. The child was not leaving his desk. He didn't look like he would leave it. Ander waited a while longer to see if he would stand up or not. And when he still did not stand up from his desk, Ander stood up without thinking. Then the short-haired girl -her name must have been Belen- grabbed his arm and started tugging.

"Come on Ander, let's go out."

Although Ander was not that friendly, he learned not to mistreat girls with the advice of his mother. Although he wanted to get rid of that girl's arm right now, he changed his mind when he saw that boy stand up from his desk and come out. They went out, he accompanying the girl.

They were in the schoolyard now. The weather was colder than he thought. A few people outside were wearing coats. He thought it wasn't that cold, but he felt cold in the thin jacket he was wearing. Despite this, Belen didn't seem to be affected much by this cold. She called a few more friends over and they sat with Ander on one of the benches in the choolyard. But Ander's eyes were constantly turning in other directions.

Ander wanted to find that boy. He wanted to feel his presence, even if only through his eyes. He wanted to watch him more, to see his face more clearly. Maybe if he met him, he could easily get into that boy's arm, as these girls do to him. Maybe he could be a true friend with him. And then more ... He thought it wasn't normal to take care of a guy when there were so many girls around. He could tell his mother about this. But he would probably keep it to himself. Still, it was good to have someone he was interested in. It must good to happened. Maybe one day he would tell his mother.

He saw him at that moment. He saw him pulling in another man who was a little bigger than the girls opposite. He was sitting under one of those huge trees here with the widest trunk. Ander noticed that he was not wearing a jacket. He wondered if he was cold. It was unaccustomed for a person to take over him in such a short time. His attention and thoughts were only on him.

"Don't you think so, Ander?" Belen had said it while tugging on Ander's arm.

"Oh, what, I don't understand." Ander made it clear that he was not following - not listening - the conversations.

"Are you not listening to us?" Belen asked pettishly this question to Ander.

"Sorry, I was miles away." Ander immediately responded. And he spoke, looking at the people around him to sort out the situation. Most of them, he didn't even know their names. Normally it was something he would be very angry with -being surrounded by strangers- but he didn't care.

"What were you talking about?" The answer was a larger man than Ander, whom he did not know when he was sitting next to him. He was sitting on his left side and Belen was on his right.

“You know the boy sitting under that tree…” He pointed to the boy who was above Ander's full attention.

"We were talking about he shouldn't be studying at this school. Actually he shouldn't even be in this town."

Ander turned furiously to the boy next to him. He tried to remember his name. But it was impossible for Ander. He was very angry with the subject of this conversation. There were thousands of question marks in his head. His voice was louder than he had anticipated. Moreover, Ander was extremely quiet person.

"What? What are you talking about?"

The boy apparently did not expect such a reaction from Ander. He distanced himself from Ander and responded in a more reserved manner.

"Mate you don't know?"

"What? What don't I know?"

Ander knew the boy who was now involved in the conversation and made everything clear. This boy was sitting right behind him. His name was Gil.

"It is perfectly normal for him not to know, none of you told him about it?" Ander became more and more curious as the others nodded to Gil.

"It hasn't been long since he came here, but I thought his family had told him about it." Belen replied in a somewhat timid and quiet way to what Gil had said.

Ander spoke, raising his voice, unexpectedly from him, because he did not understand the speech and became more curious.

"Now will you say what you are talking about?"

Gil looked at the students - his friends - around him one last time. Then he moved a little closer to Ander. Now it seemed as if he was going to say something that should not be said. It's like giving a secret. According to Ander, there was an exaggeration in the speech of those children.

"That child killed his own mother." he waited a while. He continued when he could not get any reaction from Ander. "He is a murderer."

Ander paused for a few seconds. He wasn't sure he heard it right. In fact, he didn't think the person who told him to know what he was saying.

His first reaction was to laugh out loud at this idea -humor or anything like that-. Then he was to look at them in disgust. But he chose to examine everyone's behavior at first. He looked at their features to gauge whether they were serious about this. They were all very serious. Ander felt frightened for a moment.

Ander was shocked by another thought that came to his mind. There was a vague feeling in his body.

"Wait! If there is not, are you saying this because he is an immigrant? Immigrant, Arab or something like that."

The people around him were looking at Ander in a strange way.

"No mate, we are not such people like that." Gil answered him.

"Yeah, of course." Ander looked mockingly. 

"Ander he's a murderer, why don't you understand?" The person who responded to him was Belen this time.

Ander looked at the girl next to him in disbelief.

"How do you know that?" He looked at those around him again. "How can you know that?"

The children around Ander did not answer him. Ander spoke even more furiously when he could not get any reply. He thought it was definitely a slander. A ridiculous gossip spreading among people ...

"Did you see this with your own eyes?"

Gil who was close to him, now he had away from Ander, exhaling.

Belen, on the other hand, wanted to make a move to relieve Ander's unwarranted anger.

"Ander, our families said that."

Ander became distanced from Belen where he was sitting.

"How do your families know that?"

While Gil wanted to respond to Ander more calmly, the others could not understand Ander's violent reaction. This rage of Ander was neither in line with his image of a silent child, nor should he be so angry for an ordinary person.

"He was the only one with her the day his mother was killed, mate. Besides, the police seem sure of that."

The bell rang. Playtime is over. Students in the garden set out to enter their classes. Inside Ander's brain resonated with what his friends -he actually doesn't even know some of their names- said.

\---

  * **21 October 2004**



"What are you doing here?"

Ander knew it wasn't a question. This was a plea. It was a payback. It was asking for an account. It was proof that he had no right to be here. Ander wanted to get out of there before hearing this question. He wanted to freeze there, to be shattered, to perish. He was blaming himself for being arrogant enough to stand up to him.

Omar did not expect an answer. He was just waiting. Perhaps because he saw him years later, he was trying to memorize it again with his eyes. Perhaps he was trying to persuade himself not to be weak against him. He didn't know why. He was just waiting.

Omar was directing his cruel glances at Ander, in fact he could vomit blood on him right now. He saw this right and more in himself. Although he knew how much his body wouldn't allow it ... But Ander wasn't even looking at his face. Omar felt humiliated. His gaze would not meet, as people often hesitated before him. But Omar knew that's why Ander wasn't looking at him. His reason was not to be ashamed. According to Omar, Ander looked down on him. He felt that he would be happier if he saw Ander's defiant looks that he used to remember.

Ander saw Omar's dull body move several times. Now his back was turned to him. Ander saw that he was bigger than he remembered. The last time he saw him, he was weaker and shorter. Ander had forgotten that they were still under development back then. In fact, he wished he could forget everything right now. Everything he does ... Everything that happens ...

The person who could not make eye contact now was Omar. If he wanted to ask him to account for what he did, he could not do it in this open field. Christian was still looking at them. And the only pair of eyes above the two didn't belong to Christian. There were many men around. There were many strangers. Everyone's eyes were on them, all their attention was literally on this strange meeting.

Omar knew this well. He pulled out of Ander's sight a little and pointed through the door.

"Come in. My room." This was a harsh and callous order to Ander. He then turned to Christian and made a similar order. To show Ander the room.

When Ander and Christian disappeared inside the old building, Omar saw that bag that Ander was wearing on his shoulder. Tennis bag with his name on it. Omar understood that Ander wasn't coming to stay here for a short time.

As Ander stepped inside, he felt more eyes on him. As he looked around, he heard Christian's pressing questions. "Dude, who exactly are you?" It was the clearest question he heard. But Ander didn't seem to be able to respond. He was thinking about how to face Omar. He didn't really know what he was thinking before he got here.

Now Ander had come to a room-like place with a small table and three chairs. He was sure there was no decent room anywhere in this building. And if Omar calls here 'my room', _where exactly was he sleeping?_

Ander immersed in observing the surroundings, Christian left the room after a man called him. He was already waiting at the door, so he left without any explanation to Ander.

Ander felt like he was in an emotional void. He admitted to himself that he didn't think he could find him so quickly. He could never have been ready for this meeting and it shouldn't have been this early.

Omar arrived in the room very soon. He closed the door. He sat on the one far from the door from two chairs opposite each other. He wasn't looking into Ander's face.

Ander was still standing. He might not have expected Omar to come to the room so early. Moreover, he had closed the door. And they completely kept themselves away from other people. Ander really didn't know what to do now.

Omar was furious that Ander was still standing. Ander's standing here just kept his anger even more. Omar didn't know how to deal with this.

Omar glanced briefly at Ander. He was making a great effort not to contact his eyes. His deep inside, someone seemed to be telling him that he should look more at Ander. Omar felt that he frightened feeling -the feeling he shouldn't feel- was alive again.

He took a deep breath. He ruffled his pockets. He took out a pack of cigarettes and lighters. His hands were shaking. Omar hated this weakness. He did not think he could sustain this tense environment any longer. "Sit down." Omar said, when he pointing to Ander at the chair opposite him. 

Ander slowly sat down on that chair. He put the bag hanging over his left shoulder on his side. Omar's eye was still in that bag.

There was still silence. Omar was smoking his cigarette, his hands shaking. Ander was looking at his hands. Omar felt Ander's eyes on him. He felt very uncomfortable. He moved a little in his chair. He put his free hand to his forehead. He took another deep breath from the cigarette. This time he was looking at Ander.

"Why did you come?" Omar was trying to control his nerves. Ander was wondering what to say to him when he couldn't give himself an answer.

Ander could not answer.

Omar was even more indignant at his silence. He dropped the cigarette in one of the full ashtrays on the table that covered almost the entire room. For see Ander's face more clearly, he approached him. He thought that maybe he could tell what he was feeling from his facial expression. It was impossible. As Omar fought his own inner struggle, it was impossible to understand Ander's true feelings when one side was happy to even see Ander and the other wanted to spit blood on him.

"How did you know I was here?" Ander had to respond to prevent Omar's false thoughts.

He lifted his head, which was inclined towards the ground. His eyes, unable to look at him, were begging him now. He wanted him to believe him.

"I didn't know. I really didn't know. I just ..."

"You just what?"

Ander again could not answer. Omar was furious again when he saw Ander's gaze running away from him. He raised his voice.

"Just what?!"

Ander was startled. But when he looked at Omar, he realized that he was more timid than he was. He didn't know that he harmed Omar so much.

"I just thought you might be here and I came." He said this a little out loud and reciprocating Omar's gaze. Then he looked away again and answered with a low voice. "That's all."

"That's all. Is that so." 

Omar moved away from Ander. He took out another cigarette from his cigarette pack. His hands were shaking more. Omar was struggling not to insult his shaky hands. He lit the cigarette. He exhaled another strong breath. He was rubbing his forehead again.

"Why did you come?" his voice was very fragile. He was very graceful and seemed to cry. Ander was disgusted with himself for harming him enough to bring so many emotions at the same time.

"What do you want from me?" his gaze was on Ander. Ander was looking at him too.

"What more do you want from me?" He approached him again. Ander could not move. He didn't think he could move in this proximity.

He swallowed. He waited.

"I..." 

"Do you want money?" Omar became callous the moment he walked away from Ander. He was not looking at him because he felt he could speak more brutally without looking at him. He didn't want to see his reaction even with the corner of his eye. But Omar was still rubbing his forehead and his hands was shaking.

Ander wanted to deny him. In fact, for the first time in his chair, he wanted to move a bit and approach Omar this time. But Omar wasn't listening to him.

"I don't have money, you know that well, you don't come for this." Omar answered his question to himself. And he continued to say more. "If you want drug or contraband, there are more reliable people for you, go to them."

"I didn't come here for these." Ander suddenly raised his voice. Omar's shaking stopped for a moment. Then it continued again. Ander thought Omar was not someone to shake with anger. At least when he got to know him he didn't have such a feature. Ander began to wonder more and more what happened to him.

"Why did you come here then?" Omar approached him again. He spoke with gritting his teeth. Ander felt that he could not stand it when his face came close to Omar.

"My…" Ander hesitated. He hesitated to tell Omar or not. He had come here because he did not think he could take refuge in anyone else on this matter. But Omar was not who he knew. Even so… Ander knew he didn't deserve his kindness. "My father is dead."

Omar's hands stopped shaking. Omar threw himself back in his chair. He was completely removed from Ander's face.

"Someone killed him. Someone killed him in the house we lived with." Ander closed his eyes for a few seconds to erase the horrible images that appeared before his eyes. He put his hands to his face. He was aware that Omar was watching him unresponsive.

"Someone killed him and… and... they think I did." Omar was now watching him thoughtfully. While rubbing his chin with one hand, he left the cigarette he had just smoked into the ashtray.

Ander paused for a few seconds and saw how seriously Omar had listened to his speech, and he wanted to continue.

"I was at home that day... yes... I was at home... I was at home when he was killed ... but I didn't. I can't..." Ander took a deep breath. "I didn't. But nobody believes me."

Ander felt his eyes fill with tears. He was very hurt and was asking someone he hurt to help him. He knew he was extremely miserable. But he felt at peace in the depths of his heart because he was facing Omar.

Ander closed his eyes with his hands. Omar was look his every move. When Ander heard the sound of a lighter, he realized that Omar had lighted another cigarette.

"I know you didn't kill that shit." Ander couldn't believe what he was hearing. He took his hands off his eyes and looked at Omar. Omar's eyes were facing the blank wall. "I know how faithful you are on him." Ander knew it was a reference to the past. "I wish I had this opportunity in time, I would do it with pleasure." Ander was startled by the little smile on Omar's face. The thought that he wasn't the man he knew was increasingly taking over him. "But I don't understand. What do you want from me?"

Now Omar was looking into Ander's eyes and looking for answers. For Omar, this shouldn't have been of his situation.

"I need..." Ander took a deep breath.

"You need what?" Omar's sarcastic gaze was again on Ander. "You need a murderer."

"No... I didn't mean that... No... I need..." he wasn't sure what to say. "I need you." Ander had said this all at once by looking into his eyes. He collected all his courage, but when Omar looked at him furiously, he was discouraged.

"Don't you dare..." his anger got more and more. "Don't you fucking dare! Never think of such a thing." Omar said, clenching his teeth. Ander tasted the hate at every word of Omar.

"There is no one to believe me except you."

Omar thought for a moment. _Believing him..._

"Are you kidding me?" Omar had loudly raised his voice. "Is everything that simple for you?" he waited for a very short moment. Thousands of thoughts flowed through his mind, but he felt like his tongue tied up. "You... You screwed my life, my fucking all life, and now you come back as if nothing had happened. And you're giving me your bullshit."

"Omar..."

"I don't have the faintest idea what's on your mind but…" He raised his voice louder, as if he could get louder. "No I have! You want to ruin my life more, right?"

Ander wanted to deny him. But he felt that his anger - his anger towards Ander - was so justified that he didn't want to do anything. Ander wanted to see more of that hatred -made by his own hands.

"Omar, I just want to be with you." But he could only say that.

"Which Ander says that?" Omar questioned Ander this question with scornful eyes. "Let me guess. Ander who was 10 years old? Ander who was 16 years old? Ander who was playing tennis? Ander who changed what he wanted in just one day? Ander who screwed up in my life? Which?!"

"Ander who cares more about you than anything else."

Omar chuckled at Ander's insolent response.

"I don't think such a person exists."

Ander did not know how to get rid of such an intense rage.

Omar only looked at him for a long time. He could not believe he was so sensitive, naive, and stupid with him.

"So what do you intend to stay here? This building? My side?" He hesitated a little. He continued to speak, pointing around with his hands. "You think this place is a hotel or something like that?"

"I know this is not a suitable place to stay. But if I go by your side I may not find you again. That's why I'm staying here. I just want to stay with you." Ander continued his words, speaking more determined this time. "I ... I want to fix these things between us."

Omar was looking at him sarcastically. He preferred to talk to him here while his mind gave advice on kick him off from here. Despite all this anger, he had finally caught an emotional gap that would belittle him. Omar knew he needed this feeling. To this feeling that turns Ander into a pitiful in his eyes ...

"These things between us?" he chuckled. "Do you really believe you can do that?" Omar giggled a little more. He seemed to be laughing at him now. But that was a bitter laugh.

"I don't know what goes through that fucking brain, but you can't stay here." He paused for a few seconds. He continued as if talking to himself. His voice was getting a little louder in anger. "So what ... you will stay here, you will fix these things between us and ..."

"Then I'll take you and leave this town." Ander said at once. He knew somewhere inside that Omar would not continue his sentence like that. He saw his surprise in the brief moment after he said those words to Omar.

Omar hesitated. He alternated between laughing and getting angry. He could ridicule Ander's words, but he did not expect that he would be so serious.

Omar thought he had to pull himself together. He had to get rid of this man who brought him back to his childhood, from this man who had exposed his weakest points. This weakness was what ruined his life.

Omar stood up. He ran his right hand over his face and took a deep breath. He quickly leaned toward Ander's observing face. He pointed to the door of his room. He spoke from great anger inside his heart.

"Get out of here. Get the hell out of here!" He lowered his voice a little. "I was a fool by letting you in."

Ander was very determined. He directed the same angry gaze to Omar.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Omar was tired of what he heard. He screamed as if his anger grew deeper. Ander was just watching him.

"You! You! What do you want from me?" Omar was speaking out of breath. At the end of each word his voice got louder. Ander now saw emotions in Omar that he could not understand. If only Omar had known what he felt, what he should have felt ... or whatever he feels right now would be right for him ...

"The way you left me years ago didn't give you enough pleasure? Or are you trying to satisfy yourself again?" He leaned back into Ander's face. Yelled. "Talk to me!"

Ander was crushed under Omar's words. Under each word, there was a different allusion, and each word was stabbed like a knife into him. He admitted that he deserved them. But he still could not admit to himself that he had avoided these words for years.

"I want you back." Ander said, his voice trembling. He didn't know exactly how he said that. But he had stopped Omar long enough.

"What do you want from me?" Omar said, his voice trembling as much as Ander's as he collapsed.

He was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. Ander wanted to come over to him. He quickly got up from his chair. He leaned in front of Omar leaning himself against the wall. Omar made great efforts not to look at him.

Omar quickly pulled back as Ander tried to put his hand on Omar's knee. He was starting to tremble again. His voice was very low, but Ander heard it. "Do not touch me." he said.

Ander couldn't say anything. He just waited.

"I don't understand, Ander. I do not understand. Why after all this time?"

"I realized that the choices I made were wrong. I realized I couldn't fix my shitty life without-"

"Enough... Stop it..."

Ander saw that Omar had teary-eyed in his face. But he couldn't make eye contact with him. He couldn't be so close to him and touch him. He was the only fault that everything got so hard.

"I have no place to go except you."

Omar made a strange sound, laughing and crying. When people saw a person in this state, they would call him "crazy". However, he was experiencing the desperation of a person who was suffering at that moment. Or ... The suffering of a helpless person ...

"Is that why you left me?" He chuckled. "Is that why... why you...?" He could not say what was on his mind -what was on his mouth-. "...why you left me?..." He couldn't believe it was the first thing that came out of his mouth of all that. He was learning the difficulty of not being able to say all the words that had accumulated in his mouth -whereas as a child, he was sure he learned all kinds of difficulties-. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt his lungs squeezing, his heart crush with someone's hand, and his body bare beaten with stones. And he felt like those memories -some memories- as if he had lived a few minutes ago.

"I know that just one apology is not enough." Ander said, looking embarrassedly at his own hands.

"You do not know anything. You do not know a shit." 

"Then let me know." Ander was looking at Omar daringly. Omar was still in despair -in pain-. And his voice still sounded defenseless. 

Omar wanted to answer him with resentment. He knew he looked like a pitiful man right now — as if he could hear people's laughter mocking him—.

"When you know, can you change what happened?" Ander didn't like the feeling that the question made him feel. "You can't do anything."

"Maybe." Ander said in a whisper. "But I can change what will happen."

Omar looked at him desperately. He could not find words to resist him.

"Omar let me stay with you." He wanted to reach out to him again, but he quickly pulled back his hand from him. "I am ready to pay for everything."

Omar didn't respond to Ander's desperate requests. His ears, eyes and skin denied Ander's existence. For minutes, maybe hours, he waited leaning against that wall. Ander was sitting on the floor directly opposite to him. When he finally found strength and stood up, he sniffed. Ander stood up in sync with him. Ander was just watching Omar as he wiped his face. It was as if he had cried ... Then Omar turned his straight gaze to Ander. Nothing seemed to happen now. His voice was full and proper. He began to speak confidently, puffing his chest.

"Just a few days." he continued, speaking more threateningly. "Just a few days. Then you'll get the hell out of here, do you understand me?"

Ander couldn't say anything. He just nodded to him. He thought there was no chance in opposing him right now.

"Come with me. I'll show you where you will sleep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More questions may arise in your mind, but that's just the beginning. I hope you enjoyed it.  
> I'd be very glad if you could say your thoughts :)


	3. Guest and Host

  * **21 October 1991**



"He was the only one with her the day his mother was killed, mate. Besides, the police seem sure of that."

Ander had not been able to go to the boy's side that day. He had been looking for an opportunity to talk to him all day. When he got that opportunity, he remembered what the group of friends -most of them don't even know their name- said about that boy.

In the evenings, he would walk home from school with his mother. His father would come later or wouldn't prefer to walk with them. Ander never questioned the reason for this. His life was like that before he moved here. He could not remember ever walking together with his mother and father.

Their home was a shanty very close to the school. When his mother said that he had found the most suitable house close to the school, his father accepted it directly. He still couldn't believe it was the joint decision of the two to come here.

When they got home, Ander wanted to ask his mother — especially his mother — about that child. Even if he didn't know the boy, he thought he might have heard a rumor about it. Ander still hesitated. He didn't know if he was ready for the answers to get.

Sitting opposite his mother and father at the dining table, he thought that the moment was the right moment. While playing with the food on his plate with his fork, he asked without looking in the face of his mother and father.

"Is there a murderer at the school?"

His parents seemed to be in a shock wave. At the same time they stopped eating and looked at each other. When Ander could not get an answer to his question, he wanted to clarify his question.

"They say one of the kids at the school is a murderer."

"Honey, who did you hear that from?" his mother was able to respond to Ander's words.

"Everyone's talking about it, Mom." Ander was not pleased that he could not get an answer to his question. He continued speaking, a little more nervously. He no longer played with his food, but looked after his mother and father. "They said, you should have warned me about this. I don't understand. How can they talk like that about a child?"

"Look son, this is the first time I hear from you. I'll talk to the others about this tomorrow. How would they let us teach him at this school if there is such a child, stupidity." his father had answered Ander. He expected a different answer from his father. Not that.

"Dad ... Is the problem that he attends the same school with us?"

"Then, what's the problem Ander?"

His mother and father were waiting for Ander's reply. They were watching him and waiting for what he would react to.

Ander turned his attention to the dinner plate again. He grabbed his fork and started stirring his food. His father continued to speak, not receiving an answer from Ander.

"I understand, having such a kid in your school may have scared you. So my first thing tomorrow will be to get it done."

"No." Ander dropped his fork hard on the plate. "I'm sure it's just a rumor. I'm just…" Her voice suddenly dropped. "I just wondered why this rumor was spreading."

"Still, if they are going to make such a gossip, they have solid evidence."

His mother replied, wanting to stop his father's insistence.

"It could be a joke between the kids, Antonio."

Ander's father passed by what his mother said. He believed that a child he hadn't seen already was the murderer, and that pissed Ander off.

His mother has now returned to Ander.

"Do you know his name, honey?"

"No." Ander was furious with himself that he still didn't know his name. Although he did not know his name, he was angry with himself for feeling the slightest suspicion of him.

But his father would already believe that the boy was problematic, and his mother would eventually obey his father's opinion. And Ander knew. There would be a great debate between the two even on this issue.

\---

  * **21 October 2004**



Ander tought how wide his shoulders were as he followed Omar's back. In his childhood, Omar's body was as big as his body, but day by day it got smaller than his own. Ander saw that Omar was smaller than himself in his current body. His shoulders were always smaller than his. But it was bigger than he remembered. And Ander thought. Omar was younger in size - and age - than most of the people here. These things are that easily understood by the eye.

Ander took a moment's silence from Omar to ask questions. Ander quickly asked before Omar could step up the stairs leading to the second floor.

"So ... You are now the leader of the Immigrants?"

Omar stopped where he was. He answered with a chuckle.

"Did Christian tell you that?"

Ander shrugged. He knew that Omar would not see this move.

"He told me about the nonsense of the leaders and that you were their Boss."

As Omar was walking, he suddenly turned to Ander.

"I am not their boss."

Ander remembered once again how much he missed Omar's eyes. His daring eyes ... But he had already lost the right to tell him that.

"Are you sure?"

"Do I have to say it twice?" As he said this, he took a step towards Ander.

Being close to him ... This was an experience he hadn't had in years. Ander felt that if he wanted to stay, he had to get used to it. 

"Why is he, or are they, calling you like that?" He asked this despite all the questions on his mind.

Omar turned his back on Ander again. He started talking when he started up the stairs.

"I give them what they want. Money and work ... a temporary place to stay ... And they call me like that."

"Does this place belong to you?" Ander asked, half-puzzled. He was sure that this building used to be a factory, that it was closed later. And nobody bought this place.

"This building does not belong to anyone."

"Why did you say you gave them a place then?" 

Ander heard Omar let out a deep breath after this question. 

"They are asking my permission to enter here. Just like you. But I never told them that this dilapidated building belongs to me."

Ander made clear that it did not believe.

"Is it just that? Is that why they call you 'Boss'?"

Omar stopped when he went all the way up stairs. Ander thought there was an annoying squeak on those stairs. They were now at the entrance to the second floor. Omar looked daringly at Ander.

"Does it concern you?" Omar wouldn't imagine Ander's being so callous when he looked into his face. While he showed all sorts of emotions inside him, there was no change in his face. "You can't see any rights in yourself just because I got you here. And stop your questioning attitude!"

Ander just looked at Omar's face. He seemed to be learning that he had such a strong voice. A deep and firm voice ... Ander wished inwardly. To hear his childish voice once more ... 

\---

"My advice to you is to go into town, you don't have to stay here."

Omar was trying to persuade Ander not to stay in this dilapidated building. He had warned him many times during this time as they roamed the building. He had openly stated that the place to sleep would not be hot, there would be a lot of noise at night, that he would not find a clean place for a toilet, and a kitchen when he was hungry. Ander had no intention of leaving this building despite all this.

"I told you I'll stay here." Omar advanced ahead and Ander behind him, both stopped. When Omar came to a room without a door, he stopped in Ander, naturally keeping up with him.

Omar raised his eyebrows. He pointed to the room with no door.

"You will stay this room." Ander only glanced around the room -although it doesn't look like a room according to Ander- for a brief moment. He didn't need much try to see that it was filthy inside. Moreover, when he stepped into the room, he realized that there was an unbearable smell. Still, he wanted to think positively. The windows of this room were not broken and had a stove.

"This place stink to high heaven." Still, that was the first thing he said Ander. Because that scent could drive him crazy. Or he could faint, but also keep him awake.

"If you don't like it, you can go. I told you this place is not a hotel or something like that."

Ander turned to Omar, covering his nose with his hand.

"I don't like it. But I'm not going anywhere."

He saw Omar's lower lip curled up a little. But he soon turned his back on Ander. He replied as if he muttered. "As you wish."

Before Omar left completely this room -now Ander's room-, Ander had forgotten something that had come to his mind that was very important to him. "Omar!"

"Now what?"

"Is there a place where I can take a shower?"

Omar could have laughed for hours at the way Ander asked this question. But there was not the slightest change of emotion on his face.

"There in the town."

"Excuse me?"

"There is no place where you can wash. If you want to bathe, go to the public baths in town." Omar answered, raising his voice.

"Is it open early in the morning?" Ander asked, looking at his bed. If there were other conditions, he wouldn't lay -stay- here.

"No, they open late and close early." Omar saw the strange look on Ander's face when he said this. For some reason, he felt even more angry at that moment. "You won't die if you don't take a shower for a few days."

Ander immediately turned towards him after Omar's words. "Omar..." He did not wait for Omar's words and his response to him. He asked, looking more carefully at his face. 

"Until when were you in jail?" 

Ander watched the reaction of Omar's body to this question.

Omar felt as if cold water had been thrown into his body, as well as boiling water. He felt like he was in a big dilemma. "There is no end to these stupid questions, right?"

"I want to know." Ander tried to stand firmly. But it was very difficult to bear the brunt of this problem.

"So you want to know. As who? As the man who sent me in jail?" Omar asked these with terrifying calmness, and Ander wondered how badly he might feel with him.

"It wasn't my fault." He didn't want that to be what came out of his mouth.

"Yes, it was my fault. I was the shitty person after all." Ander wanted to deny him. He wanted to say that it was not his fault, no one's fault, that he was not a shitty person, that he was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and many more. Then he confessed to himself. It was too late for some things.

"I'm sorry." He said out of nowhere. It just came out of his mouth.

"Just one apology is not enough. You said that, you remember, don't you?" Omar wanted to look at his face. He wanted his face to challenge him, just like his own. He wanted to remind him one by one of his derogatory moves. "Your apology was not accepted." 

Ander could not respond. Omar did not expect any answer.

"Any other question?" Omar now pretended to make fun of Ander. Ander's head was still tilted to the ground and his body was motionless. He refused this question only with his head. He couldn't make a sound. "Then, Welcome back to the shit bag town Sir Muñoz."

\---

  * **22 October 2004**



Ander did not know if he could not sleep all night from the smell or the cold. He wondered how people endured in winter if it was this cold in October. Ander was wondering if that smell came from animals, humans or insects. But it was clearly visible. This place hadn't been cleaned in years. The smell could have been caused by everything. He wondered how much Omar complained to him about being in dirty places as a child, but how he slept here. Ander wondered how Omar could live inside this building with all the people. Or whether he stayed with these people for so many years ...

The sounds did not bother him much, and it could be said to be like a lullaby. The loud speeches of the people were echoing throughout the building, and Ander could not understand what they were talking about. He was grateful for the first time not understanding. But a lot of people passed by his room at night, and this was very strange when Ander was so used to having his own personal space.

At the first light of the morning, Omar appeared in front of his room and Ander instantly got up from where he lay. He would definitely get a more suitable mattress for him today. This was quite old, yellowed, dirty, and troubled his waist.

"Breakfast time."

Ander remembered that he hadn't eaten last night. Perhaps one of the things that kept him awake at night was that his stomach was empty. And he knew he was hungry enough now.

Omar was still waiting outside the door -entrance to the room without a door-.

"I'll change my clothes and come." Ander hadn't guessed that his voice would sound that drowsy as he got out of bed -not a bed, just a mattress-.

Omar responded, bored.

"No need for that. I came to show you where we eat the food. Then do what the hell ever you want."

Ander knew that Omar would not greet him amicably. And when he saw this state of his, he had real hesitations. _He won't forgive me ..._

He came here believing that Omar had changed. He admitted to himself that he expected more. He thought that Omar would attack him after all that had happened -things caused by Ander-, and he even prepared himself for that. He had told himself along the way that he would stay with him no matter what ... But Omar didn't attack him. He didn't even touch him.

Ander didn't know he needed his touch so much.

He dreamed of his childhood for a moment. He imagined the feelings that Omar had just seeing him. Everything seemed too far away for him to reach. His childhood, his purity, his courage ... They are too far to reach.

_\---_

  * **22 October 1991**



Ander wished he had not told his parents what those children had said.

Ander had not thought that after dinner yesterday was such a big deal that it would cause an argument between his mother and father. Or that his father would blame his mother for coming here -this town-.

He realized that he was now thinking about his own family problems instead of the child. And now the second recess is almost over. Ander noticed that strangely no one came to him today. But this had relieved him. What he wanted was a little bit of solitude. Even though he knows it is not so ...

The only odd thing was that Ander wasn't sitting alone during playtime, but alone in the classroom. He was watching the class when he heard the noises coming from the hallway. Suddenly he found himself wondering about the source of such a big noise.

When he arrived at the outside door of the classroom, he saw students from two different groups push and shove each other, and the crowd - the other students - cheered around them.

He didn't know what the cause of the fight was. So he plunged into that crowd and wanted to learn. He could see more clearly now the children pushing and pushing each other. He soon noticed him. He felt different every time he saw him. He was blaming himself for missing this, when he had the chance to observe him more often in class.

He wanted to ask one of the people next to him about the reason for the fight, but he seemed fascinated - not only his eyes but his body were completely locked on him -. Moreover, this was something he felt only by seeing him for a moment. Ander felt very strange.

"You stole my pen, you shitty Arab?" A boy with short brown hair said that. And he said for the boy who, Ander's focus of attention. And then another child's voice was heard. "Give it back to my friend! You jerk!"

Suddenly he saw the boy shouting with ambition when he was standing and the others were on the ground.

"Fuckers, I tell you I didn't do it! Don't stop throwing your own shit on other people!" he was out of breath. The crowd was silent. Ander was already watching him with full attention, while the others were looking at him in the same way.

As the crowd dispersed before the teachers arrived, Ander noticed that he was coming towards him. The closest point to break through the crowd was where Ander was located. He threw in passing child Andere shoulder staring at the ground in disgust. Or because he grimaced face of suffering.

"Get away from me, curly dickhead."

Ander knew that this boy was saying something bad to him. An insult ... But at that moment he felt strangely blissful. A happiness that will blow his family's quarrels off his mind. Childish happiness ... A happiness people would call him stupid when he was an adult ... It was the first thing Ander heard from _him_.

\---

Ander could not hide his happiness in that evening, either.

While he was doing his homework in the living room, he muttered songs he didn't know where he was thinking. Her mother could hear his voice very clearly, as the kitchen and living room were so close to each other. His mother did not experience his behavior -quite cheerful- often. She thought it was the first time he was like that since they had come here.

"Did something happen at school? You are quite different today." His mother talked Ander from the kitchen.

Ander chuckled.

"Not really."

"But something happened, right?" His mother thought he enjoyed it -from something happening- very much.

"Hm..." Ander thought how to tell her. "There was someone I wanted to talk to. And that someone spoke to me today."

Her mother found herself smiling.

"And you're friends with that someone now?"

He felt a little upset about this. He knew he still hadn't spoken to him properly.

"Actually no. He was the only one who spoke to me."

"And you're just so happy with that?"

Ander leaned further at his table with a big smile on his face.

"Yes."

\---

  * **22 October 2004**



Omar took Ander to where they were eating. This was the ground floor of the dilapidated building. Somewhere underground. When Ander entered, he was astonished when he saw a long table with dozens of people sitting side by side. Even so many people being side by side seemed strange to him.

On the way, Omar said that they had breakfast early in the morning and had dinner early in the evening, and that if he got hungry at noon, he should go to the town center and find something to eat. Ander thought he looked like a robot -or machine- in these conversations.

Now Ander was sitting opposite Omar. Omar specifically showed him where to sit and sat on the opposite side of him so that he would not get beside him. A few minutes after they sat at the table, in the space next to Ander, Christian saw a man shorter than him seated in the space next to Omar.

Omar and that man started talking to each other in whispers. The man was constantly observing Ander, and Ander knew he was the subject of the conversation. However, this crowd and a sound from every mouth causes noise. Ander could not hear the conversations between the two.

\---

They had descended to the ground floor of the building, the area where they had dinner -breakfast- with one of the Christian leaders. He was a henchman to the most grumpy of those leaders. When he entered the dining area, he noticed that yesterday's boy and his bosses were sitting opposite each other. At that moment, his leader would have noticed the same when he turned to Christian. And asked. "Who is that guy?"

"Ander Muñoz." Christian and the leader were still watching them from afar.

"I didn't ask his name, idiot. Who is he stands here as?" he shouted.

"How do I know? He said he wanted to see Boss and I brought him here." Christian was kind of defending himself. He would hear from him over and over again what a stupid move he was making. That's why he already wanted to defend himself.

And the leader swore at him and walked away from him. He quickly sat down in the empty space next to Omar. Christian would not leave his leader alone. That's why he sat down next to the boy -Ander- he met yesterday.

"Who is that guy, Omar?" The leader quietly spoke to Omar.

Omar glanced at Ander and turned back to the man next to him.

"A guest."

The man felt a mixed feeling between surprise and anger.

"What are you talking about?"

There was no change in Omar's facial expression. And his terrifying calm -coldblood- was still on him.

Omar expected the man's desired - persistent - demeanor, but he was angry. He might have raised his voice a little.

"My guest." took a little more control over his voice. He continued to speak as he poured small pieces of bread into his mouth. "He will go in a few days."

"What do you mean, a few days? On delivery day, will he be here?"

Omar spoke, staring at him.

"He will not." He looked at Ander for a moment. When he turned back to the man he repeated his words. "He won't be here."

The man failed while trying to focus on the food in front of him. He kept his eyes on Ander, and he had a lot of trouble. After standing up at the dinner table for a few minutes, he again bowed to Omar's ear.

"This man has no business with the cops, right? If he talks about our work or us..."

Omar hesitated. Alarm bells began to ring in his brain with the images that came to his mind. As he glanced at Ander out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ander staring at him. His eyes were still on Ander when he answered the man next to him.

"I don't think he will report you."

Fernando felt they were in an even stranger situation.

"You? What do you mean, just you?"

"Look Fernando, that guy is my guest. I'm the only focus of attention for this guy. You and the others have nothing to do with it." He said this quietly with emphasis on every word. He was looking not at Ander but at the man next to him. It appears that he was quite angry in his voice, and that silenced Fernando.

"So be it." Fernando began to eat again what was in front of him.

Omar heard a loud noise coming from the nearest of the stairs to this place. Turning in that direction, panting, he saw one of Fernando's group come to them.

"Cops…" took a breath and continued again. "Boss... Cops want to see Boss. They are in front of the building."

Omar surrendered to the worst of the thousand and one thoughts he had. Omar was cursing his stupidity. It was a bad luck to have him here, even if it made no sense. Although he saw his worried, confused gaze, he no longer believed _him_. He looked furiously at Ander and moved quickly to the astonished looks of the men beside him. He hurried past the person who came there, panting. When he climbed up the stairs, there was deadly silence.

Omar disgusted himself for still not killing the child inside him. The child who worships him ... The child who worships someone who devoured his existence ...

\---

Ander didn't know how scary the word -cop- was for the people here. But he remembered. This feeling was very familiar to him. It is a familiar and quite uncomfortable feeling. He might have forgotten to be in the same place with the police for a few days. But he was very uncomfortable with them. He had repeatedly witnessed the moment when the police called Omar.

Ander still didn't know how strange the situation seemed. A guest who came to the building and then the police ...

He felt Christian's and Fernando's eyes on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be very glad if you could say your thoughts :)


	4. Curly Head and Black Head

  * **23 October 1991**



Ander had found an excuse to meet him.

This was his second week since he came to school, but his teachers wanted all his lecture notes to be in the notebooks. This was to be checked on Friday. Ander didn't know where he got this idea, but he thought the boy's handwriting was beautiful. Moreover, he could bet he was keeping notes in Spanish.

In the first break of that day, he saw that the boy had not left his desk again. He didn't know what happened after the fight yesterday, but the other kids involved in the fight were not in their class. Only this kid from their class was involved in a fight. Ander understood very well yesterday why he still does not know the name of this boy. He was a ghost student in that class, especially at the time of the lesson. The teacher did not give him any say, and his name was not read when the attendance lists were read. Ander heard his voice only yesterday during the fight.

Even looking at his face surrounded him with strange bliss.

"Hello there." he still couldn't believe he was greeting him. He had a stupid smile on his face.

The boy looked at him but did not answer his greeting. Ander instantly sat on the empty bench in front of the boy, although he did not get any response. 

"Can you give me your lecture notes?"

"What?" the boy asked, a little confused and a little nervous.

"Your lecture notes. What the teacher wanted. Can you give them to me?"

The boy was looking at Ander as if he had seen something strange. Ander even thought there was something strange on his face.

The boy moved a little while sitting. He was staring at Ander in disbelief that something wanted from him.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No." Ander had forgotten that he had a stupid smile on his face. "I just want the lecture notes."

"Why do you want?"

Ander thought the boy was very skeptical. 

"My own are incomplete, I want to complete it. You know I'm here late."

The boy was now scribbling the notebook in front of him. This was a self-distraction that Ander did so as not to preoccupy with what he said. He was trying not to listen to Ander. Ander didn't know why he acted like that, but he had no intention of getting up.

"Can you give me your notes?"

The boy stopped scribbling in his notebook. He looked towards Ander.

Ander was very puzzled. He didn't know what to say. He just responded with a confused urge. "What?"

"Aren't you friends with a lot of girls? Or boys? Why don't you want them?"

Ander wouldn't have thought that this kid, whose looks he admired, would react that much to someone who just wanted his notes. But according to the rumors about him, this could be his defense mechanism. But this was not something little Ander would understand.

"I…" Ander could not answer at that moment. When the bell rang, he got up from that row and took his turn. Ander had said wish for many things at that moment. I wish I had sat in a desk near him. _I wish I had answered him._

\---

  * **22 October 2004**



When Omar left there with the police, it was daylight hours. It was getting dark now and Omar had not come back yet.

Ander had been subjected to strange glances from people that day. The leader named Fernando kept asking him questions, and Ander gave evasive answers to each of them. Christian's friendly manner when he greeted him yesterday had vanished. And no Spaniard had ever gone to contact him. But everyone somehow knew. He was the Boss's guest.

Ander went out to wander around the town in the middle of the day. He had arranged a bit of the stinking room he was lying in, but he had to find something else to deodorize it. So he also thought that he should shop in the center of the town. And just like Omar said, he ate lunch anywhere in town he found. It was not possible not to get hungry until noon. Moreover, most of the breads served for breakfast were dry and stale. Ander thought how much worse the dinners could be.

The strange glances of the people in the building disturbed him even more when he returned with the cleaning supplies for the room. Ander had been questioning more and more why he came here. In fact, by coming here, he forgot a little that his father was dead and how bad the last few years of his life had been. Although you can think of worse memories here ..

He could not afford a new mattress. He couldn't find anything like he was looking for anywhere in the town -in the town center-. It came to his mind later that he could not carry him to the building, even if he found it.

Now everyone was about to gather to eat. As Ander was very curious about Omar's situation, he heard a loud voice echo inside the building.

"Ander!" Omar's voice was calling him. 

Omar was at the entrance of the building. Ander was staying in one of the rooms on the second floor of the building. When Omar called his name several times, he left his room and stopped where Omar could see him. Omar was looking at him from below. He was quite angry.

"Go to my room." Omar had told this to Ander as he headed up the stairs. Ander strode briskly towards Omar's room downstairs. Omar had come to the room before Ander. He closed the door quickly enough to make the building groan. Ander was standing there.

"Antonio Muñoz was found dead in his home three days ago. Do you have any ideas on this?" Omar said this to Ander with his back, more calmly and quietly.

Ander, surprised by not understanding anything Omar said, just "What?" he could say.

"Cops asked me this! Antonio Muñoz was found dead in his house three days ago, do you have any idea about it!" Omar continued to throw up anger as Ander listened to him in surprise. "Why are they asking me something like that, huh ?! What do I have to do with your father's death ?!"

"Omar…" Ander replied, trying to stay calm. "Believe me I don't know."

As Ander sat in one of the chairs, Omar began walking around the room, chanted around himself. "I'm a fool ... I'm a fucking fool ..." was said quietly.

"That's why you came here, isn't it? You said this man might have killed my father, and that's why they called me?"

"What? What are you saying?" Ander felt a shock wave in his body. Like he was struck by his words. So much so that his voice trembled as he said this. He didn't know what was on Omar's mind. But he knew he didn't trust him. So he will always suspect him first.

"If you didn't tell why are they suspecting me, huh?" He approached Ander's face. He spoke more quietly, but his anger grew louder.

"They said count the people who had enmity with your father, and you said me, right?" swallowed. He continued, examining Ander's gaze. "Then you came here, knowing my damn weakness for you, you thought you could handle this by yourself, right?"

"Omar... I swear... I swear to you... I had no idea." As he said this, he looked into his eyes as if begging Omar. He bowed his eyes as he brought the rest.

"Is there anyone other than you to suspect me or blame me? Your damn dead father is going to get up from his grave and blame me, isn't it?" Ander knew of Omar's mistrust of him. But he didn't think he would feel the pain so deeply.

"I swear to you, I don't blame you for anything." He said suddenly. He put it on the line.

"You are the most shitty liar I've ever seen in my life." Omar said this by looking directly into Ander's eyes. 

"I did not... I didn't lie to you. Why should I lie to you?" Ander was pleading with his eyes. He knew that his words meant nothing to Omar.

He looked at Ander with humiliating eyes as a sneaky smile formed on his face.

"Why should you lie to me?" he waited for a while and then continued to shout. "At that time did you have a reason to lie to me?"

Ander felt his entire body tremble, right into his ears, as Ander was so close.

"I never had a reason to lie to you." he replied very firmly.

"Why did you come here then? How did you know I was here?" Even though Omar tried to keep himself calm, he can't. He was still shouting.

"I told you Omar. I didn't know you were here, I thought you might be here and I came. And I… I thought you might still be in jail before I got here."

Omar retreated. Again, when he started walking around his room, he never looked away from Ander.

"For years, no forever, you'd rather be in prison, wouldn't you?" Omar was so calm when he said that. There was not the slightest change in his voice.

"No ... No, not that..." Ander objected, even though he knew that Omar would not believe him. He was trying to explain that he wasn't such a ruthless person. Even he himself couldn't believe it.

"You were at home the day your father died, didn't you? You were in the same house with him." He spoke furiously, leaning over Ander's face. "If I had killed your father and I knew you were in that house too, I couldn't do it because my hands were shaking." As he spoke his last sentence, he showed his hands to Ander. Ander wanted to touch them. Again...

"But you know what? I'm a sick man, I would kill your father, I would take you with him too." Omar was startled when he said that. He was just showing him that mess he wanted to see Ander. He thought Ander still came for this. Because he thinks Omar is his father's murderer.

Omar turned away from him again.

"Get out of here." He said calmly with his eyes turned to the door. Then he got more angry when he didn't see any movement in Ander. He leaned over him and said aloud. "Get out of here!"

"You said I could stay for a few days." Ander responded helplessly.

"I gave up. A few days are too much for you. Today is enough for you. Now get out of here!" At the end of each sentence, his voice got louder.

Ander was afraid of his determination, but as he came here he thought over and over everything that crossed his mind. He knew he was more determined than Omar.

"I am not going anywhere." He said, raising his voice from where he was sitting. "I didn't come here to stay for a few days. And I'm not going anywhere without solving the problem between you and... and me, us."

"Look at me-" Omar responded to Ander, while Ander interrupted his speech.

"If I am convinced that one day we will not get along, then I will go." he waited a while. He focused on Omar's strange look at him. "But I am sure I'll fix these things between you and me. And I'll go with you from here."

"Such a thing will never happen." Omar said this dullly. He headed for the door. He said before he hurried out of the room and left. "Do what the hell ever you want."

\---

  * **23 October 1991**



When Ander was 10 years old, he could not imagine he would break up a fight.

It was the first day he walked his way home alone. This was the first here. His mother had wanted Ander to return home with his father, as he had work to do. But when his father said he had jobs, Ander decided it would be better for him to go home alone.

Very close to his house, he noticed that Ander was pushing someone his age, a group he guessed to be older. Ander definitely avoided such things. The moment he turned his head and attempted to leave, he heard his voice.

"Leave me!"

Ander looked in the same direction again. He was. That was _him_.

Then he found courage in himself. He threw a stone he saw on the ground towards one of them in that direction. "Leave him alone." He really didn't know where this courage came from.

"Mind your own business, kid." One of them answered Ander, who pulled his hair.

Ander stopped for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. That black-haired boy was looking at him with interest for the first time.

He suddenly had the idea of lying.

"I just moved to this town and my father is the police, I will complain you to him."

Ander was a little frightened as one of them laughed at this. But others thought they could not continue dealing with the boy. It was daytime, most of the people were out and someone else could spot them at any moment.

"I'm serious. If you don't leave him alone I'll complain about you." Ander spoke more decisively and harshly than before.

The boy who pulled his hair suddenly pushed him. "Fuck." As he walked away with his friends, he turned to Ander and started talking in anger. "Tell your father to do something and remove these Arabian seeds from here."

Ander did not understand what the man was saying. But he knew. They were just dealing with that boy.

He hurried over to him. He could see that his school clothes were filthy, his face and hair were filthy. He put down the school bag on the floor, took out a handkerchief from it and handed it to him. "Liar." he said while taking a handkerchief from Ander's hand.

Ander looked at him with surprise. "What?"

The boy continued to speak as he wiped his face with a handkerchief.

"I know your father is one of the teachers."

Ander laughed. The boy was still sitting where they were pushing him. When Ander extended his hand to get him up, he did not refuse. He was holding the handkerchief in one hand and Ander's hand in the other. Ander thought how beautiful his hands were. He didn't know how he thought of it in dirt and dust.

"What did just they say?" Ander asked. The boy was still trying to wipe his face with a handkerchief. He was also packing his bag. Ander noticed then. They dumped everything in his bag on the floor.

"He expressed his gratitude to the Arabs." Ander smiled as the boy started laughing to himself. It was the first time he saw his laughing. He was very beautiful.

While the boy was packing his bag, Ander just watched him. The boy had a strange effect on him. Enough to freeze him for hours.

When the boy finally recovered completely, he handed the handkerchief to Ander with a broad smile.

"Thank you."

Ander could not look at his hands for a long time while taking the handkerchief. He just took it and responded clumsily. "Not important."

"The handkerchief is a little dirty, if you want, I'll clean it up and give it to you."

Ander looked at the handkerchief. Then he looked at the boy again. Then his mother and father came to his mind. And without thinking he handed the handkerchief back to the boy.

"I'm a person who hardly pollutes my things so I don't think my mother would believe my lies."

"True, you are not a good liar." The boy smiled and took the handkerchief back.

Ander stared with that stupid smile of the morning on his face.

"By the way, will you give your notes to me?"

The boy laughed.

"Are you still thinking about that?"

Ander shrugged.

"Of course. I want your notes."

The boy hesitated a little.

"Why?" He continued, observing Ander thoroughly. "Why don't you want girls'? I'm sure theirs is better than me."

Ander thought a little.

"I don't think so. I think you're the best Spanish speaker in our classroom."

"Speaker? You know you want my writing right?" The boy was still skeptical of Ander.

"My mother told me that well talker, beautifully writer." Ander just thought of it at that moment. But he wasn't sure that this was what his mother said.

"How did you get this idea? You know I'm an Arab. I don't speak Spanish that well."

Ander answered with a smile involuntarily.

"You know words I don't know, like curly dickhead."

Omar laughed out loud at what Ander said.

"Did you get out of here that I know Spanish well?"

Ander shrugged again. His smile never disappeared from his face.

"Yeah." he replied confidently.

"Anyway, I'll show you my notes tomorrow. If you don't like it, you'll get somebody else's."

"I'm sure I'll like it." Ander spoke with confidence.

The boy could not respond. He just smiled. He thought it was a compliment. He was getting compliments from the most beautiful boy he had ever seen.

"See you later then." He said as he drove behind Ander.

He remembered something he had forgotten before saying goodbye in the same way in Ander.

"Your name. I don't know your name. What's your name?"

The boy continued to move forward, turning his face to Ander for a moment and replied.

"Omar. Omar Shana." 

Ander was sure he had a stupid expression on his face. He was laughing big and passing that name over and over. _Omar_ ...

He remembered something as Omar moved away from him. He didn't say his own name. Ander called him loudly.

"Ander. I'm Ander."

Omar turned to him and smiled.

"I know, curly head."

\---

Ander was so happy that he didn't question why those men treated Omar like that. He ignored that scene in his head when he should have played it out over and over again.

But at that moment he was happy that he didn't suddenly leave. If he ignored that moment completely, that boy - Omar - might not have spoken to him at all.

And Ander felt the happiness of this all over his body.

The first thing she did when she walked into the house was grab her mother's squeaky radio and go to his room. His mother usually used this radio when his father was away or never used it. She said she would buy a new one, aware that its voice was extremely strange and was about to distort. But Ander wanted to have fun today with the sound of that broken machine - the radio -.

\---

When her mother came home a few hours later, she suspected that she did not have her own home, with the sound of music heard just outside the entrance door. Only when the door was opened a little bit, he could hear Ander's murmur. This was definitely her home.

It seemed strange that the sound of the radio was so loud and Ander didn't mind the noise. Moreover, Ander was not accustomed to having fun dancing by himself.

Ander noticed her immediately when his mother arrived at the door of Ander's room. And knowing that his voice cannot be heard because of the radio, she shouted to his mother, "Let's dance." he said.

He grabbed his mother's arm and tried to pull her into his room. 

Azucena showed his skeptical attitude as he watched Ander do with laughter. "To what do we owe these moves?"

Her mother sat on Ander's bed while Ander breathlessly went to turn down the radio.

"I spoke today to that someone I told you about yesterday."

His mother was looking at Ander as if surprised. Actually, he was really quite puzzled. These didn't seem like the things her son would do because he was just talking to someone. It looked pretty strange.

"Really? Is it just that?"

"Yeah. Is it so weird?" 

Ander understood quite well from his mother's gaze how strange he found this. It could have been really weird actually. But he was too young to care.

"I don't know, don't you think you're acting weird?"

"Not really. I feel quite happy." His mother was not used to Ander being too happy to listen to what he said. So she didn't care either. She wanted to leave him alone with this happiness.

"No problem then." She got up from his bed and headed for the door to get out of the room. "You can invite her here one day if you want. If her parents let her."

"Her? Not her. His." 

"Pardon?" His mother looked at him even more confused.

"He is not a girl. A boy." 

Ander thought he was saying the wrong thing, when his mother simply looked at him for a few minutes and didn't make a sound.

"Are you so happy that a boy talked to you?"

"Yeah. Is it really so weird?"

Azucena took a deep breath.

"No, my son. It's not weird." Before Azucena left the room, she thought she didn't want Ander to spoil his innocent gaze and happiness. But she also knew he had to be careful. "Nevertheless, do not tell your father about this happiness."

Ander did not oppose him. Because he knew. His father would be very angry with his happiness.

It was easy then to ignore his father. It was easy to ignore his father when he felt that he was with his mother. But it wasn't always like that.


	5. Rainy and Windy

  * **22 October 2004**



Omar had left the room in which he and Ander were in great anger. He was still quite tense and had a string of senseless feelings on him. He knew deep down that he wasn't supposed to stay here.

He had told himself over and over again that he shouldn't allow it. He could have fired him and erase all the problems in his mind. But he still had things he wanted to know and a deep weakness for him. In fact, the only reason he let him stay here and didn't think of revenge on him was because of his silly weakness.

Omar was drowning in his thoughts as he descended the stairs. And at that moment he had to give a speech - an explanation - that would strangle him even more.

When he got down to the ground floor, he saw Fernando approach him with a cigarette in his hand. He didn't feel calm and ready enough to talk to him.

"As soon as you arrived, you went to yours."

"Now it's not the time, Nano." He said as he wanted to hurry past him and go. He wanted to pretend he didn't care what he said.

"When will it be the time?" When Fernando realized he was not cared for, he was furious. His voice was quite clear and harsh.

"Now it is not the time!" Omar raised his voice. This was not something Fernando was used to. To see this anger of Omar or raise his voice suddenly.

Still, he didn't care about Omar's anger. With the same determination he continued to burst him into questions.

"Why did the cops take you away?" Omar understood that he could not get away from him without convincing him.

"It does not matter." He answered calmly. He had thought of deterring him with simple answers, but he didn't know if he could do it with his nervousness now.

"Did the cops take you away for something that didn't matter?"

Omar knew he could not stand this questioning at all.

"They had to ask a few questions, they asked and they let me go. That's all."

This did not satisfy Fernando. He raised his suspicions more. According to him, Omar was hiding things.

"Does it have something to do with that guy?"

Omar expected to hear this. But he preferred to pretend not to understand.

"Who are you talking about?"

"That newcomer. Your guest or such a nonsense thing."

Omar could not act as he thought, and he was increasingly unable to restrain himself.

"He has nothing to do with anything."

Fernando approached Omar, now throwing his cigarette butt on the floor.

"You've been acting strangely ever since he got here. I don't remember ever seeing you so angry."

Omar let himself stare into Fernando's eyes for a few seconds. Or maybe he gave him a few seconds to read his thoughts. But then he immediately step back from him.

"The cops took me for something ridiculous. They asked a few silly questions. Then they let me go. That's all and I'm just angry with those cops. Understand me? Or shall I repeat the same things again?"

Fernando nodded to Omar. He didn't believe it inwardly, but it would not be appropriate to continue their discussion now. And he knew anywise he would always get the same answer in this talk.

As soon as he let Omar go, he said something that would stop him again.

"Still, I bet something was about that guy."

Omar took a deep breath. He was now more than a few steps away from him.

"He has nothing to do with anything. Don't make up nonsense yourself."

Fernando was still observing Omar. He thought he was even more strange with every word. With someone who came shouting through the wide door, Fernando swallowed what he had to say.

"Boss!"

Omar quickly turned to the direction of the voice.

"What is it again?" Omar shouted, as the man just did. But there was a panic in the man's voice shouting, and Omar was angry. Fernando was watching him with interest.

"It's raining."

"Oh, wow, I was thinking how bad it could be today. And it happened. And it's raining." He started to move rapidly while speaking to himself. Fernando was moving rather slowly, in contrast. Omar could sometimes swear he was the only leader here.

"Today is a great day, Omar." Fernando answered Omar from among the people who were running around now.

"Yes, today is a fucking great day." He heard Omar reply as he tried to climb up through the stairs.

\---

  * **24 October 1991**



It was the first day -time- that Omar went to Ander's desk.

Ander was impatiently waiting to speak to him until the recess bell rang. And it was an unbearable happiness for Ander to come to him first. Moreover, he had no idea why such simple things made him so happy. But he liked -used to- the things that happiness made him feel.

"Shall we go out?" Omar told Ander timidly. He thought how well this timid attitude suited him.

Ander was in raptures. He had not seen the strange looks of the people around him-the back desk of him is Gil still standing up, Belen coming next to him-.

Omar was more reserved than the speech they gave yesterday. He was tinkering with his hands and often holding his hand to his mouth. Ander didn't know what to talk about. But he did not think he could be quiet if he spoke.

When they came to the school garden, they realized that the weather was quite windy. Ander's mother had therefore advised Ander to dress more tightly in the morning. He now understood better why his mother wanted this.

Omar said it would be better for them to go to the back of the school. Ander didn't understand why he wanted something like this at first. It occurred to him that Omar might even have been afraid of him. He didn't think he might be afraid for him.

"Your handkerchief ..." Omar was even more shy as he took the handkerchief that Ander gave him yesterday from his pocket. As he handed the handkerchief to Ander, Ander saw a ragged piece of cloth.

"I ... I'm... I'm really sorry." Ander was staring at the handkerchief in Omar's hand with a blank face when Omar started speaking quickly. A piece of cloth ...

"I really cleaned it up and I was going to bring it to you, but… I'm really sorry." Ander did not say anything while taking the handkerchief from his hand. Omar still apologized.

"I can pay if you want. I don't know where to get it, but I can buy it. Or how you want me to fix it... I'm so... I'm really sorry."

Ander, while examining the handkerchief, thought it had been torn by someone. There were no stains yesterday, even more beautiful than clean form. But it was torn. So it can no longer be used.

"How did that happen?"

Ander was looking at him. He was well aware of the humiliation on Omar's face, so he wanted to ask in a way that he wouldn't feel worse.

But Omar became silent. He was struggling to tell or not. Maybe that's why Ander could move away from him, and that's definitely not what he wanted at the moment.

Ander could not restrain himself when he saw this state of him. He looked at him with a big smile.

"It's okay. Don't really worry. I don't need a new one anyway."

Ander couldn't believe he said this. But inside he seemed to know he was not guilty. Still, he found this attitude strange in his own way. He had to ask him more questions and find out why he was damaging something that didn't belong to him. Or who did this ...

"What if your mother gets angry? I ... I have to get a replacement somehow." Ander saw better the embarrassment on Omar every time he spoke. Although he wondered more why this handkerchief had come to this, he would not force him to say it.

"I do not think she will be angry. And you know my lies work very well." He wanted to make him smile with his last sentence, but he couldn't make it.

"I'm sorry."

"I said it's okay. It doesn't matter." Ander would not have thought he was such a tolerant person. Or it was just his weakness for someone who was interested. Ander wasn't thinking enough. He was caught up in the flow of this child in front of him.

Omar continued to apologize a few more times. Ander saw his embarrassed state for the first time. But this was not the end.

"Will you show me your lecture notes?"

Nor did he think he was a person who could change the topics of conversation so quickly. Ander was discovering new properties of his own. With him...

Omar had a small smile on his face. Ander made it this time.

"Of course."

\---

  * **22 October 2004**



Omar could not find Ander on the second floor.

At first, the thought that came to his mind was that he left there. It was the most intense of the thousand and one thoughts that came to mind at that moment. Although he felt that he was filled with peace somewhere in him, he felt that abandonment at the deepest levels again. In such a short moment the stupidest times of his life reappeared in his mind.

He looked into each room individually. The rooms on the second floor were all empty now and in the rain. Omar was also fulfilling his duty. He made sure everyone got down to where they were eating -to the ground floor-.

When all the rooms on the first floor were almost finished, Omar felt completely exhausted. Maybe physically, but spiritually very tired.

When he realized that the only place he wasn't looking was his room, he proceeded there without thinking.

He was still in his room. He was sitting on the chair. _He's still here ..._ Omar was disgusted for taking a sigh of relief at this thought.

"Are you still here?" He meant his room.

"Where do you sleep?" Ander asked Omar's question out of carelessness.

"Pardon?"

"Where do you sleep?" Ander was wandering around the room while persistently continuing his question. He had already stand up from his chair.

Omar hated Ander's reckless attitude. Although he used to like -love- this attitude very much ...

"What's it to you?"

"Omar, I'm serious. You said this is my room, but ... There's no bed here. I mean mattress."

Omar felt Ander was playing with his nerves.

But he answered the question with a moment's thought. Or, because he was in a hurry, he wanted to answer him and go down as soon as possible. He had to count all the men. He could get into trouble with someone missing.

"This is my room and I'm sleeping here. Okay?"

"Where is your bed? I mean mattress."

Omar was cursing this questioning man to himself. Ander didn't mind.

"I take one of the empty mattresses on this floor, I lie on it at night. I put it back in the morning. Okay?"

"What if there is no empty mattress?"

"I'm not sleeping!" he shouted.

When there was silence for a while, Omar almost forgot why he came to this room.

"By the way, why are there so many shouting sounds from outside?"

"It's raining."

Omar first lowered his voice to control his unwarranted anger. Ander's demeanor made him even more angry. While Omar was so disturbed by his presence, he did not understand why he could not bear the thought that he was gone.

"Rain?" Ander asked in surprise. "Are they screaming so much because it's raining?"

"Yes, when it rains here, the area turns into a battlefield. Everyone is gathering downstairs where we eat. We'll probably be there in the morning tonight."

"Everyone?" Only one word came out of his mouth as many questions piled up in his head.

"Yes, everyone." Omar was calmer. But when he said nothing, he was neither looking at Ander's face nor at his whereabouts. Ander felt he had to get used to this situation. At least for now.

"Is everyone going to sleep there?" While Ander was asking this, his aim was to find out if Omar would be there as well. But his constant asking questions seemed to make Omar even more angry. Even his presence was a big problem for Omar now and was a source of nerves. Despite all this, Ander was not thinking of giving up his questioning attitude.

"This will happen tonight." Omar continued his speech more gently. "One more reason to leave here."

Ander pretended not to hear Omar's last sentence. As he turned towards the door, he saw that Omar took a few steps away from the door - towards the table - to get away from him.

"Are we going to eat? I'm hungry." Ander had asked the question facing the door. But when he turned his face to him, he saw something that made him feel like he was brought back to life.

Omar's smile ... A very small, very weak smile ...

"If you linger here a little longer, you won't find even an insect to eat."

When Ander looked at him with disgust, he opened the door of the room and left.

There was a strange happiness in him. He remembered how happy he was just to be with him as a child. But the reason for the current happiness was different. Ander saw hope in that very weak smile.

\---

  * **24 October 1991**



Ander shouted in anger for the first time in his life.

However, he had started that day very happy. He learned the name of the child he wanted to meet, started getting along with him, and it was first time he came Ander today. Ander wanted to walk around the school laughing like crazy. But he was enraged.

Ander described his hitherto self as "pure." Yet his still child self had not experienced anything yet. But he was angry with the people. To a group of kids like him ...

\---

Ander felt embarrassed every time Omar apologized. He knew that a handkerchief shouldn't be overdone. Then he put himself in his shoes. He knew that if he took something from him and that item was damaged… he would really regret it.

Omar was taking the notebooks out of his bag and handing them to Ander. When Ander began to open and dig through the notebooks he had eagerly bought, he read what he wrote - although some could not - and he was stunned as if someone had hit him.

He could not read some of what was written. Ander thought it was Arabic or a language like that. Written on Omar's handwriting ... ugly writings on Omar's pearly handwriting ...

Ander's strange gaze on his face frightened Omar. When he approached him a little to understand what was happening, he realized that he was right to be afraid. They were both standing only looking at the notebook. Omar wanted to take the notebook from Ander's hand. But he already understood what he was reading. His writings that he was a murderer ...

When Ander heard the giggles around him, he saw several people staring at them. They were laughing while looking at them. Ander saw the hate at its worst at that age.

"Did you write this?" Ander said while taking the notebook and showing it to a few students who giggled.

Omar followed behind to block him. For the first time, Omar felt vulnerable to them -against these children who tormented him-. Still, he wanted Ander not to enlarge it right now.

"I'm asking you. Did you write these?"

"Does that matter?" someone spoke. "He's got what he deserves in the notebook." and another one...

"It was his homework, idiots!" he said as he threw the notebook into one of them's face.

"What's this to us! That scum doesn't even deserve to be here."

Omar hated standing behind Ander. But it was the first time that someone had defended him for the first time. Someone was making an effort for him. A stupid boy of his own age ...

"Ander, please, enough." Omar said this to Ander's ear as he tried to grab Ander's arm and pull him back.

For the first time, Ander felt so pleased when someone touched him.

But he was angry. He was angry at his classmates who spoke arrogantly in front of him.

Instead of going in the direction that Omar took, he walked over those children.

"You know what? If anyone does not deserve to be here, you are!" Ander thought he was acting too boldly. Even if someone insulted him, he wasn't sure if he would react that much. But he felt anger all over his body that he had never felt right now.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you defending that murderer?" Gil. It was Gil's voice. He said this to Ander during it.

Omar felt his tongue connect. He could not react to speech.

"So what's what wrong with you? You all keep saying the same thing and instead of talking to him you exclude him." Ander's voice was getting louder. He didn't know that it was the first time he was defending something -someone- so violently. Because at that moment he couldn't think of himself.

"He's someone who killed his own mother. Why would we want him with us?" This was a boy sitting on Gil's back desk. Ander could have sworn he was also an immigrant. But he didn't remember his name.

"How do you know that?" Ander asked, trying to calm down. He had posed this question to the boy who had just scolded him. But actually it was a question for everyone.

"What?"

"How do you know he's a murderer?"

Omar's body stiffened when Ander sharply posed his question. He thought — he felt — it was his fault what was happening now. If Ander continued like this, he would cause trouble on his own.

He thought — he felt — he had ruined the silent boy he was captivated by.

"You're just like him, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Murderer."

The person who spoke to Ander was again Gil. Before Ander could answer him, another spoke. Everyone around them was against them.

"You are not Arab or immigrant. But apparently you're a scum like him."

"You may think whatever you want, I don't care!" he shouted.

Omar wanted to yell at Ander that he cares. _You do not deserve these insults ..._ But he couldn't open his mouth even if he wanted to. It was as if he was stabbed. When he took Ander's arm, he heard someone else speak.

"I don't think Ander is such a person. Surely this scum did something to him." Omar felt relieved when the conversations returned to himself again. Looking like a evil guy -a scum- didn't suit the curly haired kid.

Ander was silent. Despite all the things he wanted to say, he could not speak. He felt really vulnerable -useless-. Everyone was thinking the same thing against Omar. Immigrant, Arab and murderer ... Ander knew he had chosen the right person to be vulnerable.

When he wanted to counter Gil, Omar grabbed him by the arm this time. He took him to his desk. He was also whispering in his ear. "It does not matter."

Ander wanted to say a thousand words to him. To say it does really matter ... and much more. But he saw fear in his eyes.

He saw that he was uneasy. He looked very fragile right now. The boy who stood against everyone before Ander's eyes turned into a vulnerable person. The boy who was slandered for stealing a pen and opposed everyone for this, turned out to be vulnerable when talked about being a murderer.

Ander assumed that. Because he didn't know.

Omar was very afraid of completely losing this boy, who was watching quietly.

The bell rang. Ander sat down on his desk. Omar picked up the notebook where Ander threw the children. There were shoe prints on it now. Ander hated being a child.


	6. Liar and Debaucher

  * **23 October 2004**



It was midnight. The first hours of the day.

Ander did not know that the rain would affect this building that much. Moreover, he did not think he was still present in the heavy rains he remembered in his childhood. The climate of this town felt as if it were on another planet.

Ander stared often at the clock -for a few days he forgot its existence- on his arm. He didn't know why these men didn't sleep, even though it was so late. Moreover, all of the spoken words were in Spanish and he was listening inevitably.

"Are we sure the delivery will be Monday?" Christian suddenly took a sitting position where he was lying and asked. Ander would never understand what this guy was doing -talking-.

"Silly." Fernando shouted as he threw the lighter he pulled out of his pocket towards Christian. "There's a stranger next to you." He meant Ander.

Ander's eyes shifted directly to Omar. He wondered if he would answer what these two said. But Omar did not react at all. He didn't care.

"He's boss's guest, Nano. He's not a stranger."

"Not your guest, you idiot. Besides, you don't even know this guy, how do you trust right away?"

Christian turned his eyes to Ander for a while. He waited like that for a few seconds. When he returned to Fernanado, he responded helplessly.

"It looks like boss trusts him. And I think it doesn't matter whether we trust or not."

Omar chuckled involuntarily. _It looks like boss trusts him..._

Ander was more interested in this than speech. He didn't like to hear and see this giggle. He knew he still wasn't confident. He just didn't care.

"Anyway, give my lighter back, silly." Christian threw the lighter back at Fernando.

"Still, it's weird that you got a stranger here, Omar. And he's not even a worker or... I don't know." This was the other leader -third leader- Ander did not learn the name of. If not mistaken, this man spoke three languages just like Omar. Or more ...

Omar did not seem to be the focus of the conversation. But he turned his head to them in order to hear better. In fact, he still didn't care much about what was being spoken, just trying to pretend to care.

"I keep saying the same things to him, but he keeps saying 'he is my guest'." Fernando answered him.

Omar was now sighing. It would be very good for him to smoke a cigarette now. But he couldn't smoke where so many men were stuck at the same time. He wouldn't.

"He has nothing to do with these issues. It's not what he understands."

"We're not asking that, Omar. He's a stranger." The other leader responded to Omar.

"I know him enough. And he won't do anything to scare you." Omar said with a callous facial expression.

Ander would have been affected by these words even if they were under other circumstances. But he knew he was not forgiven. And Omar didn't answer the questions as if he cared enough. Some kind of lying mechanism ...

"He's not going to complain about us, huh?"

Fernando asked sarcastically. He did not fully believe in anything Omar said about Ander.

"I didn't come here for such a thing." Ander broke into the conversation.

Omar did not expect Ander's answer to this - his spike -. And he didn't want to.

"Why did you come then?" Omar also didn't expect Fernando to be so cautious of Ander. Omar was telling himself that these few days should end soon.

"I just... I wanted to visit him." When Ander turned his eyes towards Omar, he somehow spoke.

"I don't think this is the right place for visit." The leader, whose name Ander has not yet learned, responded. And he turned back to Omar. "You know you're taking risks, don't you?"

"I'm trying to explain that too." Every word of Fernando angered Ander. The leaders - with or without Omar - didn't like Ander.

"He will stay for a few days, do not exaggerate." Omar carelessly responded to what the two said.

Fernando and the other leader briefly glanced at each other. Next to Ander, Christian was listening to the conversation and waiting for what Ander would say. He wasn't sleepy anymore.

"What is he to you?" Omar glared at Fernando. The other leader didn't want to be any more involved in the conversation. "Then tell me what's to you, and I'll shut my mouth."

"This is none of your business. And keep your nose out of my business." Omar murmured. It was the first time that Christian saw tension among leaders.

Fernando looked first at Omar and then Ander.

"Well, do what the hell ever you want. I'm going to sleep."

\---

Ander woke up two or three times a night. He saw Omar awake every time he woke up. He was looking in the same direction almost every time. Ander hadn't seen a small window there. A small window with blurry glass. Omar was always looking there. Ander wouldn't have known that Omar was looking at him at other hours of the night.

Towards the morning, Ander awoke to loud voices. He started to see people more clearly while he was getting up on the floor. Many people were eating breakfast at those tables where they were now sleeping. Ander rubbed his eyes several times. He forgot that he had to go outside the building to wash his face.

When he was ready for breakfast, he saw yesterday's trio were together again. Christian was sitting in his seat yesterday and Omar's face was empty again. Ander moved to where he was sitting yesterday. When Fernando noticed Ander, he fell silent. And nobody greeted him except Christian.

Omar looked colder - distant - than yesterday. Omar seemed to be getting more callous every day.

\---

  * **24 October 1991  
**



Ander was having an argument with his friends for the first time. He was having an argument at a school he attended for the first time.

Although Ander wanted to talk to Omar again that day, he could not. Either someone was interfering or Omar wasn't interested in him. Ander didn't like that Omar wanted to stay away from him.

As he was about to leave school, Ander thought he should get some lecture notes from someone. For this, the most suitable person in his mind has always been Omar and never thought of anyone else. Since his notes were scribbled, he should have gotten them from someone else. The second possibility was not Belen, but Ander thought he should ask for the notes from him. Indeed, he did so.

Belen immediately agreed to give her the notes - without ever thinking -. Ander glanced at Belen's notebook as well as through Omar's notebook. Belen's writing seemed commonplace to Ander, while Omar's writing shines in those ugly writings - scribbles -. Too ordinary.

"Why did you protect him today?" Ander was still looking at the notebook when Belen asked about it.

Ander pretended not to understand.

"Who?"

"You know who I am talked about. He's murderer."

Ander wanted to throw the notebook on the floor. But he didn't. He just focused his attention on the girl in front of him.

"He has a name. You must know that."

Belen was now looking as if Ander had said something strange to him.

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Why are you actually acting like this? All of you. What did he do to you?"

"He didn't do anything to us, but looks like he did to you. You keep protecting him." Belen was no longer using that beautiful look she used to look at him. Her voice was not that understanding or polite either.

"What? What are you saying?"

"You don't know what that boy can do. He took you under his influence. They say he made his father crazy. The police already know that he killed his mother. He will trick and trap you too."

Ander didn't know what to say to him. According to him, this girl opposite was fooled. They filled him with lies and slanders. But Ander was silent. He made an excuse to go to his mother and walked away.

Ander could not stand being so suspicious of Omar. And he had learned what the word submission meant.

This town would teach him everything - what he knows, doesn't know, doesn't want to know -.

\---

On the way home with his mother, Ander saw Omar again. He called out to him, ignoring his mother. Omar pretended not to hear and proceed on his way. Ander was angry. He called Omar's name and ran towards him. Moreover, he did not explain to his mother that he had seen a friend.

"Omar, stop now, please." Ander was finally able to catch Omar's shoulder. He was out of breath. When he finally caught Omar, he saw his mother follow him slowly.

"What do you want?"

"Are you going to rewrite the notes?" Ander asked directly. He didn't mind how cold and careless Omar looked.

"I don't know. It's also none of your business."

Ander was just opposite Omar. He was closing his path.

"I borrowed a notebook from someone else, we can write the notes together if you want."

Omar sighed.

"No, it's not necessary."

"What do you mean, it's not necessary? What will you give to teacher?"

"I won't give anything! Get out of my way." Omar spoke out loud as if he was shouting.

When Ander stopped blocking Omar and stepped out of his way, his mother approached him. Omar strode away from there. When his mother came to Ander, she saw that Ander's face was glum.

\---

  * **28 October 1991**



It's a new Monday. Ander was very happy even though he did something wrong that day.

Most likely, no one would know what he was doing except him and Omar. But his mother, father, and teacher would scold him for not giving his lecture notes. His teacher would not dwell on this issue just because he just arrived, but his mother and father would be very good about it. Ander would get a lot of scolding from his father.

Ander saw Omar come over in the last break before the last lesson. This was one of the events that brightened his day. Omar had come to him, albeit indirectly. Moreover, Ander tried to communicate with him all day today, but Omar did not allow.

"Come out." Omar said sternly to Ander. Ander was still perfectly happy.

Omar had gone ahead, Ander had gone to the schoolyard behind him. Omar was trying to find the most desolate place. When he finally stopped somewhere, Ander kept pace with him.

"Why did you do this?"

Ander looked at him like he didn't understand.

"What have I done?"

"You know very well what I am talking about."

"From what?"

Omar was holding back not to laugh with anger. But he couldn't help raising his voice.

"Why did you change my lecture notes?"

Ander responded confidently.

"You were thinking of giving teacher a notebook with that ugly writing, right?" Omar did not confirm. Ander continued. "I couldn't condone it. I changed my own notes with yours."

Omar was silent. He was even more angry when he realized that he was pleased with Ander's attitude.

"I still don't understand... Why?"

"You want teacher to slap you again?" Ander didn't think it was crossing his mind at that moment. But he knew from the very beginning. That moment - that voice - was engraved in his memory.

Omar bowed his head. He would be proud and fell in love with him there at that moment. He wanted to do that too. But he was silent. He didn't understand why he was doing such things while trying to keep him away.

"Teacher has accepted the notes, right? My writing is not as good as yours, but I am sure you have enough to get the current score from the teacher. Even if I scold, they won't bother with me and it will be forgotten after a few days. So why don't you be friends instead of fighting with me?"

"Friend?" Omar could only answer that from all he said. "Are you doing all this to be friend with me?"

Ander answered without hesitation.

"For sure." Omar felt inexplicable happiness. He had forgotten the purpose of bringing him out, the desire to keep him away from him, the thought that it was best to just watch him from afar. He had noticed him. He wanted to be friends with him. He was with him. Omar could not believe that he was so happy for something so small. "Also, you are not talking to me. The more you try to talk to you, the more you move away. I wanted to try that too. Thank God you are talking to me again."

Omar smiled.

"You did this bullshit to talk to me?"

"Are you going to ask for everything?"

Omar was laughing out loud.

"You're the stupidest Spanish I've ever seen in this school."

\---

  * **23 October 2004  
**



Ander became more aware of the chaos inside the building after breakfast. People were running around and shouting at each other. Ander was quite uncomfortable with these noises. Moreover, it rained almost all over the building. And although he imagined the building would look like some cleaning had been done, it was all under mud. Ander disgusted himself for having a side still questioning why he was staying here.

A few hours later, while everyone was busy doing something, he realized that Omar was not particularly interested in him that day. And if one day he kicked him out of this building, he didn't know what to say anymore to stop him.

When he went to the room where he had stayed before, he saw that everywhere was wet. Including his bed and his belongings ... His bag wasn't that wet, but the items he took out of his bag were very wet.

While Ander was looking for a place to dry his belongings and his purse in distress, he forgot the existence of his phone in his bag. When he pulled out the phone, he saw the same number calling him several times. Your detective investigating his father's killer. After talking to him, the man insisted on asking where he was staying. Ander immediately said the name of the town and that it would be more appropriate if he waited at the entrance to the town. The detective did not insist on finding out exactly where he was staying.

\---

"Hello Young Munoz." When the detective greeted Ander in a very humane way, he was acting quite grumpy. He just nodded and saluted the man.

The detective had his car parked on the side of the paved road, leaning against the car, talking to Ander. Looking at the man, Ander for some reason thought he was dirty. However, it seemed as usual. He was probably uncomfortable with not being able to take a shower for two days.

"Did you really need to come here, detective?"

The man was now pulling a cigarette out of his coat pocket.

"I wanted to see where you are staying. But you don't even want me to go into town, that makes me suspect you a lot, you know?"

"I don't care that, you know, right?" Ander was trying to talk to the man quite coolly.

Detective Ander laughed a little at his answer. He could have put this insolent boy his limits, but this case was more important to him.

"Well ... if I ask why you chose this town to come. Immigrant town."

Ander felt the detective was suspicious of something.

"I told you that before. I wanted to go somewhere with people I don't know."

Ander answered the detective without hesitation and being careful not to speak anxiously. A shiver surrounded his body.

"People you don't know ..." Detective coughed several times as he took a strong breath from his cigarette. "But your personal information doesn't say so, Mr. Munoz."

"What is it saying?" Ander continued to pretend he didn't know.

"It say you lived in this town for about six years. Your mom, dad and you. You stayed here for about six years."

When Ander did not answer, the man pulled a notebook from the other pocket of his coat. He continued to talk to Ander, looking at what was written there, with a cigarette in his mouth. The words could not be heard clearly from his mouth.

"You came here for your mother and father's business. Or should I say for a sigh of relief ... But things did not go as you expected and your mother could not find the peace she was looking for here. She committed suicide." The detective's words had caught something in his throat. Tuber. A knife. "Moreover, even though your mother committed suicide, you continued to stay here with your father." He closed the notebook. While still holding the notebook in one hand, he took the cigarette in his mouth in the other. "That seemed pretty strange to me."

"What's pretty weird, Mr. Detective?" Ander knew that the more the past was tampered with, the more he was bored.

"You continued to stay here after your mother died. But a year later ... You left this town after your father complained that there was a child, an Arab, who abused you." Now the past stood vividly before Ander. "Moreover, the criminal record of this boy who is said to have abused you is quite wide. He looks like he knows the ways of jail very well."

"Excuse me but... You are investigating my father's death, aren't you? What does all this have to do with my father's death?"

"I reseach your past and your father's past. And I search for people who are suspicious in common points. If I want to solve this case, I will look into even the smallest hole." It was the first time that Ander saw the detective talking so furiously. "Tell me now, Mr. Munoz. Why did you come to this town?"

"Just like my mother ..." He thought a little more. He had never felt such heavy loads on his shoulders. "To find some peace. To breathe. Just like my mother."

The detective smiled at this answer. This smile was just a reaction. However, there was not much he could do as an alternative right now. The man in front of him wanted to silence him with every answer.

"I want you to tell me things I don't know, young man. You're making my job difficult. Very difficult."

After detective and Ander were silent for a few minutes, Ander thought he could not bear this interrogation any longer.

"Look, sir, if you have any evidence for this place, let's keep talking. But I'm sure you don't have any evidence because I haven't stepped here for nearly seven years." Ander hesitated. He felt painful with the memories that came to mind. He closed and opened his eyes, waiting a few long times. His voice was weaker now. "Just like you said, my mother committed suicide here ... And now my father is gone. And I just want to breathe, Sir. Believe me, I don't care if you don't believe it, this was the best place for me."

The detective watched Ander for a long time. His experience said that this boy did not lie to him. But he knew that there were things and lies he was hiding somewhere.

The detective just paused and looked at Ander. This was also a method of research.

A few minutes later he put the notebook in his pocket and threw the cigarette butt on the floor. When he got into his car, he didn't even look in Ander's face. "We'll meet again." he said and left.

At that moment, Ander could give anything for a cigarette. Or for someone to hug him ...


	7. Abandoner and Perisher

  * **23 October 2004**



Ander was walking aimlessly on the asphalt road. In futile steps ...

The detective's words echoed in his mind. He didn't need to say things that remind him of his mother's death - that she committed suicide -. He didn't need to remind him of the slanders his father inflicted on Omar. He didn't need to remember those days, what he had done, maybe those lies he believed would fix his life. Ander only thought so for a brief moment. The only thing he thought afterwards was that he deserved them.

He stopped when he got to the entrance of the building. Omar must have noticed his absence, when he saw him, he made a relaxed expression. Remembering that he had seen a similar facial expression yesterday, Ander believed every minute that Omar still had some feelings for him - that could be hatred -.

Omar approached him before Ander entered the building. Ander felt that he was breathing the smoke of a cigarette in his hand as he approached. He would never have thought he could be that much of a smoker.

"Where have you been?"

Ander hesitated between lying or not. Omar might have a different inference later on if he said that the detective did not visit him.

"I just wanted to walk."

"Just that? Your face says than more."

Ander saw that it was impossible to lie to him.

"The detective came looking for my father's killer."

Ander said directly. Omar was a little surprised. He didn't know whether Ander was surprised by his honesty or the detective's arrival.

"What did he want?"

"Talking face to face."

"What did he talk?" Omar's questioning rather calm demeanor was new to Ander. For the first time in a few days, Omar seemed so calm to him.

"Things about staying here. Actually… never mind. It doesn't matter." Ander felt annoyed to stay on top of this. He wanted to pass.

Omar took a few more steps from him without asking any more questions. "Shall we walk around?"

Ander wasn't quite sure what he had heard. He looked at Omar's face with a strange expression. Omar would have laughed for hours at this expression had he not been in this tough personality.

"Shall we walk walk around, I said. Haven't you heard?"

Ander quickly followed after Omar. "Yeah, yeah, let's walk." Omar felt he missed that stupid childhood.

\---

  * **1 November 1991**



Ander was Omar's friend.

Ander never imagined he could be this happy to be friends with someone. This happiness, which he felt the worlds were unfurling for him, was not unusual for him. And for the first time he was so hesitant about whether to say anything to his mother or not. This was his first time and this was the smallest secret he kept from his family. He almost never left Omar alone at school, and when the bullied children saw Ander with Omar, they gave up doing it. Omar even thought at the time that Ander was a guardian angel.

Although Ander was a friend of him, he never asked any questions about his mother's death, or about his father's madness - as Belen said - or about his family. Ander was afraid of the day they would have to talk these things. One of them did not want to take the happiness away.

They wanted to have lunch together for the first time that day. Now that the weather was getting colder and colder, Ander didn't think it would be appropriate to go outside. THAT, in those few days everyone learned that Omar and Ander were friends. The existence of those girls and boys - their so-called friends - wandering beside Ander suddenly disappeared.

Now the two of them were sitting opposite each other at the same table. This is the place where students gather to eat at school. He often came here with teachers. Omar still had his lunch by himself, as he thought it was not good for Ander to walk around with him.

But Ander had been very persistent today. He wanted to eat the food his mother made with him. When Ander told Omar about his mother, he didn't think he could be so upset. Ander regretted the thoughtlessness he had done to him. This was Ander's smallest wrong move for Omar, and Ander regretted it to death. However, he did not know what to do with him when he grew up ...

Ander loved to observe him. And Omar was too serious while eating, making an effort not to look at Ander's face. Ander thought it was a stupid move.

"Do you think the food is good?" Ander said to spoil this quiet atmosphere between them.

"A thousand times more good than mine." Ander smiled.

Ander was just looking at Omar while he was still eating.

"Who had cooked your meals, by the way?" Omar stopped suddenly. He felt the food caught in his throat. Or a strange nausea in your stomach. But these were only due to the shock that Ander had at the moment with the question he was asking.

Ander noticed Omar's change of emotion. He again realized -thought- that he had done something wrong. He wanted to apologize for this stupid question.

"Well, it doesn't matter if you don't want to say. I asked you to speak."

"A Palestinian who stays here. When she comes to take care of my father, she also cooks food for us. But she is not someone we know, not our relatives." Omar said this and then quickly continued to eat.

Ander first said, "I see." he muttered. Then another question came to mind. Ander could be ashamed of himself for being so curious.

"Where are you from?" Ander was asking normally. But after the words came out of his mouth, he immediately regretted it and wanted to correct it. He thought he had done something wrong."So I mean ... I mean ... I was just curious."

There was another smile on Omar's face.

"It's okay. You can ask whatever you want. I do not mind."

Omar felt more at ease after this comforting talk.

"So... Where are you from then?"

"Palestine. I came here and there."

Ander leaned towards Omar as he murmured his understanding again. He smelled a strong soapy smell from it. He thought he could smell that in his hair.

Then he told Omar in a low voice, as if giving a secret.

"I don't know which country we are talking about actually. My knowledge of countries is very bad." Omar laughed a little.

"You're just asking to ask."

As Ander nods, "I guess." he said. 

When Omar brought the last spoonful of food to his mouth, he asked Ander with a smile.

"So let me ask a question. Where were you born then?"

"In Madrid."

Omar chuckled to himself.

"This is very strange, whereas I was sure you were born in Greece."

Ander took on a strange facial expression. Omar thought he could laugh at this facial expression for hours. But he only smiled.

"Where?" Ander's voice was a little loud because he was quite confused at this question.

"Greece."

"Why?"

"You look a lot like someone I know from there. I thought you might be his child."

Ander was looking at Omar very curiously. This made him want to laugh more.

"Who?"

"Dionysus. You look so similar to him."

Ander was more curious, Omar didn't think he could hide any more laughter.

"Who is he?"

"Greek God."

"What? You're kidding me right?"

Omar started laughing.

"I don't know."

\---

  * **23 October 2004  
**



Ander and Omar had walked side by side on this asphalt road thousands of times. When they became childhood friends, when they shared their first secrets, every time they shared their firsts, they surely took a step down that path. On the morning or evening of that day, this asphalt road memorized their steps. Synchronized steps with each other ...

Ander had seen his old house again. It was not that difficult to see this house while walking around this road yesterday. But now Omar was with him.

The building was hardly visible. That huge dilapidated old factory building ... Ander now remembered the time when this building was built.

Omar and Ander stood in front of the only small pond - now it looked like a swamp - in the town they used to come from frequently. Omar had smoked two more cigarettes since he started walking.

Ander could not stand it and made a move to end this deathly silence between them.

"Why do you smoke so much?"

Omar was so distracted that he did not hear Ander say it.

"What?" This was not an expression of surprise. He hadn't really heard the question.

"Why do you smoke so much?" Ander asked, a little nervously. "You used to argue with me about it all the time, and now you smoke two packs a day. Moreover, Christian told me that they were contraband cigarettes."

He heard Omar mutter to himself. "Fuck Christian."

"Omar!" Ander raised his voice when he saw that Omar's attention was on other sides. His goal was to get Omar's attention. So it happened.

Omar completely turned to Ander.

"I want to smoke and I smoke." Then he turned his back to Ander again, showed him the almost finished cigarette in his hand, and continued. "They taste very bad, but they lose appetite. In this way, I avoid being hungry."

Then he turned back to Ander. He had a sarcastic look on his face. Ander didn't like to see this. Omar sought to send him humiliating glances every time. Or his angry, hateful gaze ...

"Tell me, why don't you smoke? You used to argue with me for a cigarette, to smoke a cigarette, now you don't even take it."

"I quit."

Omar muttered to himself. Ander heard it very clearly. "Just as I guessed."

Ander continued to speak in disbelief.

"I had to quit for tennis."

"You said it wrong. You had to quit for your father."

"Where did you get that idea from?" Ander strongly opposed Omar.

"Is it a lie, am I wrong, didn't you do it because your father wanted it?" Omar did not even look in his face. He spoke so calmly and coldly that Ander felt cold.

He seemed for a moment to forget that Omar was the person who knew him and his family best.

"Yes, my father wanted. But I had to, I was having trouble breathing."

"Of course." Omar mocked what Ander said. "You didn't do it because your father wanted it. You did it for yourself."

Ander did not know where this conversation was going. He didn't want to know. But there was no longer a way to escape this conversation. Omar was forcing him.

"Don't you believe I did it for myself?"

Omar was still not looking at him.

"I don't have to believe it. You don't have to convince me. It's just…" Now he turned to Ander. He looked into his eyes. There ... he was looking for something in the deepest part of his eyes. However, these honey-colored eyes were the only thing that made him go crazy. "You who denied the person you had sex with for your father, must have meant nothing to quit smoking." He turned back to Ander again. "Or maybe that man you have sex with is not worth as much as a cigarette."

Ander couldn't say anything. He opened his mouth. He closed. He swallowed. He didn't think Omar could be so afraid of the coldness of his facial expression.

Before Ander could say anything, Omar now approached Ander with his new cigarette in his hand. "Anyway, I didn't go for a walk to talk about this with you."

Ander looked at him curiously. Omar continued to speak.

"There will be a delivery tomorrow. I will be at the beginning of that delivery."

"Is that what Christian said it would be Monday?"

Omar gave Ander a short smile.

"Yes. The Principal Boss called and said that the delivery should be made tomorrow. We will make preparations tonight. Tomorrow a truck will come, we will load the goods, we will give them to the men that the main Boss has agreed to."

Ander shrugged.

"Why are you telling me?"

"Because if tomorrow's delivery goes the way we want, everyone in my group will take their money and leave."

"What does it mean?" Ander became even more curious.

"Lots of people will go. Even Fernando. Few people will stay here."

"You're still thinking of staying here, right?" this was not a question. Omar did not answer either. "Why do you still think to stay here?"

Omar thought Ander dealt too much with things that did not concern him.

"Why don't you still think about picking up your bags and getting the hell out of here!" Omar was staring Ander's eyes in the near distance. It was more of an order telling him to go than a question. "You don't understand, do you still? There's no little boy to forgive you."

"You can't say that when I'm still facing that little boy."

Omar was laughing outraged now. "Idiot." he murmured. He didn't say that right to Ander. He then approached her. He gathered his feelings. And he looked at him, trying to keep his cool - he had no idea how he was doing it.

"After tomorrow's delivery, I suggest you leave. It will take a few hours, then I'll come back here. And you'll be fucked." It approached Ander's ear. "I'm not responsible for what happens next." Omar shouldered Ander and strode away from there.

Ander felt the pain of his shoulder all over his body.

\---

  * **1 November 1991**



It was another day that Ander's family could not accompany him on his way home.

Although Omar was on his way home before Ander, he soon caught up with him.

He was pantingly screaming Omar's name. "Wait for me."

Omar stopped when he heard Ander shouted at him. There was a big smile on his face again.

"Won't you come back with your mother?"

"They had meetings." Ander, leaning a little on his knees, said. He said while trying to control his breathing. "Shall we get back together?"

Omar nodded, knowing that they would do it, albeit indirectly, as they were walking the same road.

"You didn't have to run that long, actually. You were out of breath."

"On your way home, you are almost running, I thought I wouldn't be able to reach you.

"I'm not going that fast actually."

"No, you go too fast, just like a runner." Omar laughed too hard at this analogy.

"By the way, are you interested in any sport?" When Ander took a serious stand, Omar gave him a strange look.

"Me? Never."

"Why? You can be a good athlete."

"I'm definitely not like that."

"Like what?"

"A sporty guy." Omar's voice was rising unintentionally.

"What kind of person are you then?"

Omar displayed a thoughtful demeanor.

"I don't know. Isn't it sooner to think about these?"

Ander remembered what his father had said.

"I guess not. My dad said I should have an interest already."

Omar found this strange. Still, he thought he should tell Ander more gently. But he couldn't find how to say it. He thought he wanted to ask something else instead.

"Do you have any? Interest?"

"Actually not. But my father thinks I'll be a sporty man like him in the future." Omar loved Ander's smile when he said these.

"Do you have a favorite sport?" Omar asked.

Ander was now trying to think more clearly. Is there a sport he likes ...

"I don't know. Tennis, I think."

Omar found this even stranger.

"You think?"

"My father thinks I will want to do the same sport with him in the future because we have the same blood, but I don't know. I don't think I am very… sporty."

"Did you tell that to your father?"

Ander could not answer Omar. In fact, honestly "No." he was thinking of saying. He had promised himself not to lie to him about anything. But after Omar asked Ander a question, a man far ahead caught their attention. A man in a white dress was walking alone on the road.

When Omar noticed that man, he said goodbye to Ander. Ander didn't know who the man was, but when Omar went to help him, he thought he was someone he knew. But Ander had never seen the expression on Omar's face.


	8. Heartless and Penniless

  * **23 October 2004**



The day of delivery.

Ander could hear this amid conversations he could not understand. The day of delivery. Or the moment of delivery. After his conversations with Omar, he understood very well about this hasty attitude - his dexterity - on people and why the people here were so anxious. If tomorrow's delivery didn't go as they wanted, good things wouldn't happen for them.

And while Ander was still determined not to go, he faced another person who will talk him to leave this place. Fernando.

For the first time that day, Fernando had the opportunity to speak to Ander alone. This was an inevitable chance to state that he really didn't like him.

He grabbed Ander by the right arm and pushed a little. "Come on. We'll talk a little bit." Although Ander was quite surprised, he did not show any excessive reaction. He just made his way in the direction that Fernando was pointing - in front of the gate of this old building -.

"What's the matter?"

Fernando didn't hide his menacing demeanor as he approached Ander's face a few more steps.

"Omar told you to go, right? Why are you still here?"

There was a strange smile on Ander's face. He knew - or wasn't - he was making someone angry.

"I don't think this concerns you."

As soon as Fernando brought his hand towards Ander, Ander thought he would get a punch or something like that in his face. However, Fernando pulled back his hand quickly. As if something had come to his mind ... Now he was bringing his hand in rage in his hair.

"If there's anything wrong with tomorrow's delivery, it's your business, Mr., whom we can't find out what the heck he is, Munoz."

Ander was learning new address forms. Even in elementary school, he had not learned such different address forms -or nicknames-. And yes, he definitely didn't like that.

"Why the problem with tomorrow's delivery concerns me, Fernando, I don't care who the heck he is."

Fernando stopped himself as soon as he would swing his fist at Ander once again. Ander felt a strange pleasure as he watched the anger of the man opposite. It felt as if it were untouched.

"Look, you son of a bitch! I don't care a little bit, who is Omar to you, and why is he letting you stay here! But if I don't get my money tomorrow, you'll be responsible for it."

Ander laughed back. He was acting very annoying right now.

"Why? What does getting money or not tomorrow have to do with me?"

Fernando was looking at him more calmly now.

"We have been preparing this delivery for two months, saying that we will make it on October 25th. But you now know that it will be tomorrow. And you are the only person who knows that this delivery will be made tomorrow, apart from our men." Ander understood better now what was going on. Fernando continued his menacing demeanor. "If something goes wrong, if I don't get my money, you'll pay for it."

Ander nodded. Fernando spoke as soon as he walked away from him.

"Let me tell you this. I won't get out of here. And I'm not an agent or anything."

"Fine. You will make your own end, motherfucker."

\---

  * **4 November 1991**



Ander still did not know the house where Omar was staying. But at least he knew that after leaving school they could walk the same path. He also knew that he was ahead of his own house because every time Omar continued to walk after arriving at Ander's house.

While walking outside with his mother that weekend, he had accidentally thought that he could see Omar's house, but it was not what he thought. It was windy all weekend. At such times, his mother was neither taking him out nor going out himself. Ander's dreams also disappeared with the wind.

But Mondays were now passing as he wanted. Classes at the school passed quickly and Ander could go to Omar and talk to him at every recess. Sometimes he didn't need to talk. He was watching Omar in Ander, just like the girls who came to Ander.

And when he and Omar went to eat that day, Ander saw that a few older children were coming towards them. He didn't mind that at first. But when one of those boys grabbed Ander by both arms, the other two turned towards Omar, and he had to pay attention to them.

A thousand and one things crossed Ander's mind at that moment. They did something wrong, they did something to annoy these kids, that these kids wanted something from them, and so much more ... But besides their thoughts, they had a great fear. That fear he hasn't witnessed for days. It was happening right opposite now.

One of the two children was holding Omar's arms, just like the child holding Ander's arms. Ander wanted to yell for help while the other was rummaging through Omar's pockets. His mouth was shut at that moment. Omar was just watching what the children were doing. He was not giving any response. Ander was more angry with Omar's defeated attitude than what the children did.

When the children got what they wanted, they both left. Running step -with laughter- they left where the two were.

Ander felt angry.

"Why did you just watch?"

Omar responded with a timid attitude.

"If I reciprocated they would hurt me."

"I'll tell them to the teacher."

"It won't make any sense. Don't go to the bother."

Ander raised his voice to Omar for the first time.

"They stole your money!"

Although it was the first time Omar saw that Ander was angry with him, he was not surprised.

"I know, Ander. You think this is the first time." Omar took a deep breath. "I tried to complain about them over and over. They don't care about their presence or mine."

Ander did not understand. These things were very wrong compared to what he had learned.

"Let's go." Omar said when he started to walk carelessly. Ander desperately followed him.

Ander felt useless for the first time that day. All over his body ...

\---

  * **23 October 2004**



Ander was now trying to understand this deep silence around him. Like yesterday and the day before, people did not attack the area where they were starving. There was no big noise and no laughter. There was a profound silence - tension - all around.

Ander had not seen where they were keeping the things - the contraband - they were going to sell. He hadn't even tampered with anything about it. He hadn't asked the people who came to him and tried to talk to him out of boredom -excitement-, nor about Omar, whom he was constantly trying to talk to.

Omar seemed to be building harder obstacles every time so that Ander could not reach him again. Ander had promised himself not to get bored.

There was nothing to be heard after eating, except just the sounds of plates, forks and spoons gathered. Three Arabs - in Omar's group - were doing this. Omar was frank when Ander offered his first thanks after their first breakfast. "You don't need to be kind to them. They don't speak Spanish." And Ander continued to thank for the meals that followed, in Arabic - the language he didn't know how to speak, the language he couldn't get used to, but was trying to learn in time. Every time Ander thanked them with a smile, Omar felt he was seeing the person he knew in his childhood. But it was a momentary feeling.

As Ander thought that the people in the building would retreat to their room to sleep, Christian shouted loudly. "Let's live today as if it is our last day!"

When Ander heard the laughter from the people, he felt a little less nervous. But as Fernando spoke, a shiver took over his body again. "You talk about it after you get the money tomorrow, fool!"

Christian answered without hesitation for a second. "Do you think we can get the money tomorrow while we are in a tense environment up to our groin?" Ander liked Christian's response very much. He would have lied if he said he didn't like these conversations Christian with Fernando.

Fernando pulled a gesture at Christian and said "Do whatever you want. I'm going to sleep." said. He was now walking towards the first floor. "Still ... Don't drink too much, stupid."

Christian laughed. "Yes, exactly, we do that."

The guys in the other leader's group and Fernando's group were staring at Christian with curiosity. With a sly smile on his face, Christian pointed to the vaults at the entrance to the building. "Drink your fill, gentlemen!"

Crates full of beers bottles. Ander could not understand the happiness of these older men when he saw the beer bottles. He just smiled. Christian continued to shout at the crowd. "I gave them my last remaining money. Worth it, gentlemen!"

Christian replied, a man he -Ander- didn't know which group he was in. "God bless you, Christian."

What Christian said seemed like a strange feeling to Ander. "The God of Wine is saying that right now." Christian spoke again as the beer caps opened and the laughter of the people mixed. "God will bless us all, tomorrow after we get the money."

Ander heard once more every time, the importance of that money - that delivery - for the people here. And he thought to himself, if this delivery ran out as they wanted, Omar would be able to get rid of his burden here. He would get a chance to go with Ander. For Ander to take him away ...

Ander was watching the party on the ground floor of the building. While he was sitting in chairs as old as the building, someone came to him from behind. When he saw a beer bottle being handed over to him, he first thought it was Christian. Then, when he looked up a little, he saw Omar. He felt enchanted.

"I will not drink."

When Omar looked at him with a strange face, he was a little angry with the idea that came into his mind.

"Did you stop drinking too?"

Ander chuckled in an unhandled way. Omar was now looking for a chair to sit on.

"No. I'm just not in the mood to drink."

"Weird." When Omar sat in the chair, he dropped the second beer bottle in his hand. "But I was sure you were Dionysos."

Ander suddenly turned to Omar. For see his face. For see why he suddenly said this. But he could no longer understand his facial expression. He felt weird. It's like going into the past. To 10 years old.

"Isn't it weird that you treated me like this?"

Omar asked, ignoring.

"Like what?"

"Kind." Ander said while trying to look at Omar.

Omar took another sip of the beer bottle, then began to rummage through his pockets. Ander thought at that moment. _He always wears the same things_ ...

"Kind, huh..." he hesitated a little. "I wouldn't say that. I'm trying to remind you of your childhood and regret what you did." Omar brought the cigarette from his pocket to his mouth. As he lit the cigarette with the lighter, Ander felt his heart constrict. "But I forgot you are the heartless one."

Ander turned his eyes to the group that had fun before him again. There was no expression on his face now. Ander felt like he was crying in inside.

"How do you know I don't regret?"

Omar laughed. Actually, this was not the reaction he wanted to show.

"That regret would be that day. Now it's useless."

"I don't like that every time you sound like I'm too late for everything…." Ander wasn't looking at him. But Omar was looking at Ander. The face he had watched for hours in the past was still the same.

"You're late for most things, Ander. You can't take those moments back. You can't fix those moment. Or me."

Ander turned towards him. He didn't think Omar was looking at him. So he was a little surprised. He was always fascinated by his looks.

"I will not go. I will not go anywhere without you again. I will not make you experience the same things again."

Omar laughed again. He felt the pain all over his body.

"Yeah, of course..." He muttered to himself. "You said the same things at that time. But you left." He laughed once more. He took a sip of the drink and set him down again. He took a breath of cigarette smoke. "What if your father hadn't died, would you come back?"

Ander's eyes opened wide. He swallowed. He hesitated, even though he knew it wasn't like that in himself. This hated Ander.

"Would you believe if I said I'd come anyway? I was preparing to come to you, but suddenly this happened, would you believe me?"

Omar thought he was about to go mad -insane person- now. Like his father...

"I would not believe you."

Ander didn't say anything. He couldn't say. Omar approached Ander's face before getting up from the chair. Now Omar could more clearly hear the laughter of the people in the group having fun. He said like a whisper. "Actually, I would."

Omar told the others that he was going to bed and left Ander completely. Ander felt as breathless as he was buried under the rubble, and as dirty as he was in a swamp.


	9. Stabber and Stabbed

  * **24 October 2004**



Daytime hours. A truck had arrived, just as Omar said. All the guys in Omar's group, all the guys in Fernando's group, and the other leader's guys - Guzman - loaded the cardboard packages they prepared for delivery to the incoming truck.

Afternoon hours. While Omar counted those cartons, Fernando was preparing the money for the man who brought the truck - and would take them to the delivery location. The other leader was reminding the people going for the surrender of what they would do one last time.

Evening hours. Five people - two from Omar's group, two from Fernando's group, one from Guzman's group - had been prepared to deliver. These five people were in the place where the cartons were placed - in the camper's safe - and Omar and Fernando sat next to the driver.

And about two hours after the truck left. Ander had to communicate with the other leader for those two hours. Moreover, the two of them now sat outside by the fire they lit and wished the truck had delivered smoothly. Christian who came to them at that moment had disturbed this quiet atmosphere.

As Ander stood before the fire, one of the thick logs, Guzman was sitting on top of the other. They could bring it from the chairs inside the building. But it hadn't occurred to them.

"Could they be a little late?" Christian had asked this question standing on top of them.

Ander had not taken this question over himself. The only point Christian looked at was Guzman's strained face.

"I do not know."

"Shall we call for them?"

"No phone." Guzman said, raising his voice. Then he continued to speak more calmly. "Did you forget it?"

Christian came back into the building, breathing deeply. Guzman was staring behind Christian. It was as if Guzman had suddenly realized he was not alone. However, they had both been waiting by the same fire for hours.

He looked out of the corner of his eye at Ander. He saw that he was seriously watching the fire. Or all he did was to think.

"You are Ander right? Ander Muñoz." Guzman got up from his log to get a little closer to the fire.

Guzman was looking at Ander. He looked at him like he was examining. Ander only nodded in reply.

"What are you doing with Omar?" Guzman asked directly. In fact, it was a question that has been puzzling him for days. Moreover, Omar doesn't behave as they are used to, and this is the first time since he worked together.

Ander did not answer this question. Seeing that he was still waiting, Guzman continued talking. "Don't get me wrong, buddy. Not for the suspicion or anything else. I thought Omar was forlorn. Then suddenly you came and ... Omar doesn't say anything about you. He just keeps saying he's my guest. So ... curiosity is just."

He did not know that Guzman could speak so kindly. He had assumed him to be an aggressive man just like Fernando.

"If Omar wanted you to know, he would say." Guzman shook his head, watching Ander. "But still ... I'm not a relative of him or anything."

Guzman laughed to himself at the thought that crossed his mind. "Actually that would be weird. Having a Spaniard in his family."

Ander replied without losing seriousness. Her lips didn't seem to want to curl up for laughs. And he didn't think he could laugh about it. It was impossible for him to laugh when he remembered his problems as a child.

"As far as I know, there is no such person in his relatives." He wasn't sure he knew enough about him either. They shared many things about each other - particularly Ander's family problems. But Omar's family - his relatives - had always been an issue to be quickly closed, even when Ander wanted to talk.

When Ander saw the other leader's gaze changing, he noticed that a rapidly arriving vehicle - the truck - was standing in front of the building. The truck came so quickly that Gerardo and Ander felt like they weren't waiting for it. In fact, the truck should have been calmer on the way back. It was clear from here that something was wrong.

At the same time, the crowd waiting inside the building poured out. Everyone standing there was waiting for this moment. But there was a strange silence and more in the truck.

Five men in the back of the truck were getting off slowly. The man they arranged in the driver's seat did not sit, but Fernando was sitting in the driver's seat. Weird enough even that way, while it was even stranger that Omar was not visible from the outside. However, he was supposed to be sitting on the floor next to the driver's seat.

Despite the panic situation in the air, there was deadly silence in the environment.

Guzman yelled when Fernando still didn't come down. "What's going on, Nano?" Guzman wasn't even trying to look at the facial expressions of the men who got off at the back of the truck. He was afraid. He was afraid of having lost again.

When Fernando stepped out of the truck at the end, Guzman took a few steps towards him. "What's fucking going on, Nano, where's Omar?"

Fernando did not hear any questions asked of him and ignored Guzman's presence. He moved quickly to open the door on the other side of the truck. 

Next to the driver's seat, where Omar should have been seated ...

Ander in front of the crowd in front of the building, Guzman behind Fernando, and the five men who still hadn't taken the shock on them were facing the same direction. To the other door of the truck that Fernando just opened ...

At that moment very strange noises began to be heard.

Ander was still trying to digest the vision he saw.

Omar was there. But not what he hoped.

On the seat, Omar's body was rising and falling rapidly. And in the space before him was a man's body. The body of the man who should sit in the driver's seat ... a bloody body ...

Some in the crowd even thought there were two dead bodies. Some of the lights around did not show what was inside the truck. But those in front had seen it clearly. Guzman was the first to give a sane reaction to this image. "What happened?" Of course, Fernando was still the only person he asked questions about. The five men getting out from the back of the truck were not very cared by Guzman.

Fernando just glared at Guzman. This could actually be interpreted as a hostile attitude. But they had a very important priority at that time. He had a huge problem and a wounded man who had to give priority.

Fernando - the person in front of the truck door - called out to Omar. He was the person closest to him right now. "Omar, we came."

Ander heard a groan. Omar's groan as he tried to get up from where he was lying. This is what made him come out of the shock. Ander rushed to the door. "Omar, are you okay? Can I help y-" When Fernando grabbed his arm, he had to go back a few steps from the door.

Ander looked at Fernando with his angry gaze. Quickly he pulled his arm away from him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Fernando said in a whisper. "Don't touch him."

When Ander opened his eyes in surprise, he wanted to quickly overcome Fernando and help Omar. But there was something strange. Guzman was just watching, too. And the men in Omar's group ... The Spaniards were waiting in front of Fernando to help. When Fernando noticed them, he said dullly. "Don't touch him. He'll come out of the truck himself." Then he turned back in Omar's direction. "Won't it, Omar?"

A faint voice was heard. A weak voice that suffers. Omar spoke between moans and rapid breathing. "Yes ... don't touch me ..."

Ander took a few steps toward the door, ignoring Fernando standing in front of him. He stuck his head in the door. By the time Ander approached him, he was able to choose the wound. There was a pool of blood just above the groin area towards his stomach. Now he felt that his own voice was also weak. "Omar, what do you mean don't touch me? Let me help you." Ander reached out to Omar's now seated body. Omar made a big fuss as he pulled himself back from the seat. "Do not touch me."

Omar was more hurt as he moved fast on the seat. As if it doesn't hurt enough. Ander could not understand his move. He wanted to talk to the others because he thought the problem was with him. He forgot at that moment. Nobody makes physical contact with Omar ... He never thought there was such a serious problem.

"How's he gonna get off the truck alone? Why don't you help him?" He said, looking angrily at Fernando.

Fernando felt quite tired of his current situation and Ander. "I don't know. Ask him. He didn't let me tamp his wound all the way. All he said is, 'Don't touch me.' "

"Why? I can't understand." Ander muttered to himself. If they can't touch him, if they can't help him ...

Fernando looked at Ander's face for a few seconds. He saw the intense emotions he was experiencing. One of them was his anger towards him. But Fernando didn't believe there was anything he could do.

But what he did was the same as leaving him to die.

Guzman took a few steps towards Ander. He was also quite calm. Ander felt that he was sufficiently frustrated in this situation. "If he doesn't let you touch, do you think he'll let ours?"

"What do you mean?" Ander asked helplessly.

Fernando interrupted. "Nobody here even shakes hands with him."

“But that's not the same…” Ander said half-laughing, half-crying.

Fernando responded to Ander as he entered the building in an agitated manner. "Tell him that."

Ander hated the indifference as some men came in behind Fernando. But he could hear Christian's voice. "He injured, Nano. Aren't we going to help?"

"If I could, you think I wouldn't?" Fernando replied with a shout.

"What shall we do then, if he dies of blood loss?" Ander did not recognize this voice. But this question scared him enough. As if he's not scared enough.

Fernando did not answer this question for a while and waited.

"We'll wait for him to faint." his voice got a little low. "As we did before."

\---

  * **4 November 1991**



Ander had not spoken to Omar again that day after lunch. This was Omar's first grimace behavior.

Omar went to him at every break that day, and spoke with a smile, which, according to Ander, was quite annoying - and quite beautiful. But Ander wasn't interested in him and made it clear that he was making a long face.

His mother and father often sent him home alone recently. This is how his mother explained one of the reasons he bought the house close. The house was closer to school than the homes of many students and teachers. Some teachers even lived in the city. They would come here every morning with their cars and go again in the evening. He wondered why the Ander family still didn't do that. But the boredom of moving here was no longer there. In fact, he liked that they had moved here now.  
But there was violence that he didn't dwell on, and that he always had to see. This was a situation where the current limelight — his friend — was experiencing. Moreover, he tolerated this violence. Ander thought he didn't deserve anything to live these things.

But still Ander was afraid to ask him about his family.

At that moment there was someone trying to catch up with him on his way home. He was shouting his name while running, just like Ander did before. "Ander!" This was Omar. And before long he came to her. Ander knew he was running very fast.  
"You're coming home alone again, aren't you?"

Ander did not answer. He ignored him.

"Shall we go together?" There was a big smile on his face. Ander was always cheering when he saw this smile. Ander thought that this happened to every human being. He did not think there was anyone who could resist this smile. His smile...

"We are already walking the same road, I remember it was you who said."

"Yes, but ... I think I'd be nice like you."

Ander didn't say anything. He was trying to ignore him. It was a difficult situation for him. In general, Ander did these kindnesses. But he loved Omar's new attitude.

"Ander ... come on."

"What?"

"Why are you acting like this?"

Ander suddenly stopped in the middle of the asphalt road. He did not kick people or vehicles passing by. He raised his voice. This was the intensity of emotion he had accumulated in him of the things he could not say to anyone.

"Why are you behaving like that? Why do you sound like you have to be humiliated by everyone? Why do you obey everyone?"

"Ander, I don't do that." Omar's voice was quite hoarse. He did not seem to expect this sudden anger of Ander.

Ander thought that what he said was not heavy. But when he saw Omar's face, he regretted it. He wished he hadn't said and never had to talk about that things.

But what he did was, leaving Omar next to him, saying nothing, leaving him there with his dull body and running quickly towards his house.

\---

  * **24 October 2004**



Ander hated himself for doing nothing but watching Omar's effort to get out of the truck. Ander had been disgusted by himself for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. He thought he had promised himself he would never overlook the same things again, but that was not the case. He still had to turn a blind eye to some things. He hated himself for staying in this state every time.

Ander wasn't the only one watching Omar's effort to get out of the seat of the truck. Guzman also was looking at Omar right in front of the door.

Ander came to Guzman when he realized that he could no longer bear this dying voice.

"Bring me the truck key, or I'll call an ambulance now."

Even though Omar heard about Ander's breakout, he did not feel strong enough to open his mouth and fight him. And now the pain spreading from her abdomen to her body was unbearable. As much as this pain kept him awake, he still felt as if his eyes would close completely at any moment. Every time Omar closed his eyes, he remembered the hands running over him and he felt even worse. In this case, what seemed best to him was to sleep completely. Death.

Guzman quickly opposed Ander.

"Don't be silly. Nano will kill you."

Ander felt like he was going to get an avalanche with the last sentence he heard.

"I don't care a bit right now, Nano, Fernando, or whatever shit. I won't leave Omar like this."

Guzman clearly saw Ander's mixture of emotions. Tears were running down his face, no matter how angry he spoke. Although Guzman still doesn't know who he was dealing with, he had a bad feeling somewhere. He was suspicious of Ander, just like Nano. But he didn't know what exactly he doubted. He just listened to the bad feeling in him.

Guzman clenched his lips. He looked at Ander and then Omar. He seemed to see two injured men, one right in front of him. He spoke quietly. "I will not turn a blind eye."

When the third leader entered the building and began to issue orders, Ander thought the voices he heard were just humming. His only focus at the moment was on Omar's breathing. His rapid breathing was slowing down. Ander thought he would never hear that voice again. Ander hated his weakness.

\---

When Guzman came in, he saw that there were people pretending that nothing had happened. As if Omar still isn't writhing in pain in the truck. It's as if they had bigger problems and they were discussing it. Guzman must have forgotten at that moment. For the guys here, the priority is money.

"I need a mattress and a sheet." He said this more calmly and quietly at first. Then he shouted to the men of his group whom he trusted the most. "Bring me a mattress and a sheet. It has to be clean."

Guzman didn't like his calm state of mind when he was in a panic.

"What are you doing?" And besides, he started to take an arrogant attitude. The fact that Guzman questioned what he was doing - or wanted to learn on his own - was proof of this.

"I'm trying to save our business partner."

"I understand it asshole, but how do you do it? The man won't let you touch it."

He recalled that he had higher priorities than Fernando, when his commanders arrived with what he wanted.

"You will see it when I do it." As soon as he turned around and was ready to go, something came to his mind. He moved closer to Fernando's face. He tried to speak quietly. "There is a man out there whom Omar knows and still cares about even if I don't understand what is between them, and if we don't do something he even calls a plane here to take him from here. If you still want to earn money, as far as I understand today things are not going well, both to be outside and to be free. You need Omar. So help me a little, or at least try it. "

\---

"Omar." Ander said in a resentful voice to keep him awake. He continued after waiting for a while for her eyes to open. "I beg you let me help you. I please... I beg you." When Ander tried to move his hand towards the site of the bleeding wound, Omar made a great effort to pull himself back from him. "Do not touch..."

Omar's voice was barely audible now. And their breath. Ander felt wrong when he told himself that he had experienced this moment of despair the day his father died. This feeling of helplessness was unlike any other. But he knew what it meant. Ander knew very well what this despair meant. He turned a blind eye to what happened then -then all he did was to watch what happened just like now-, and now his suffering… Ander felt disgusted with his unchangeable self, everything that belonged to him.

Guzman was present with four men with him now. Two of them kept clean - at least cleaner than the others - sheets and mattresses. Guzman told them to put the mattress on the side of the truck, right at Omar's door, and cover the sheet over it. Ander watched as his eyes darkened for a brief moment, where he took a few steps back as he told him to leave the truck.

Guzman was still awake, seeing that he had no strength left to press his wound. He instructed him. "There's a mattress right in front of the door. Let yourself be here." Omar could not object. He just nodded vaguely. He took his feet outside the door with the last shred of power he had. Before he could understand what was happening, he fell to the floor - on the knuckle and the sheet. The sound he made after falling was not like a groan. It was like a shout. And the pain was unbearable as he fell right on his wound. Ander at that moment only felt that he was out of breath, even though he only closed his eyes and wished to be deaf.

The other two people lifted him with the chador Omar is now wearing. Guzman ordered his remaining floor in front of the truck to be brought into the building. A mattress was left at the entrance of the building - the area where everyone is now gathering. Omar with the chador on. Ander was already at Omar's bedside while Gerardo was thinking about what to do next. Ander spoke as if pleading with him. "Please ... Please ... I beg you ... hang on."

"Do we have morphine?" Guzman shouted in the middle. Although he shouted at everyone, it was actually Fernando who asked the question.

Fernando looked at him strangely.

"You know we buy those goods to sell, right?"

"I know, you idiot. You know the seriousness of the current situation, right?"

Ander shivered when he heard the conversation with a sudden emptiness. Many words piled up in his mouth with the wave of anger surrounding his body. "I don't care about your fucking stuff! Do whatever it takes anymore."

Guzman looked more menacing at Fernando. Fernando was beginning to feel the strange glances of the men around him. "Christian!" He summoned her suddenly. Before Christian had to announce what he heard, Fernando made another order. "Give what those idiots want."

What happened after that was very dark. Until Omar completely lost consciousness, no one touched him - they could not. Ander had tried to put his hand over his face several times just to keep him awake, and he whispered something in his ear all the time. But this was the solution in just ten minutes or less. Omar had completely lost consciousness after those minutes.

Guzman had waited to give the morphine orally when Omar lost consciousness. Ander was still wondering how he survived this wait.

An estimated six people or more had waited in case Omar's body overreacted to the touches. Ander was the first to respond when he was brought in for wound cleansing with a few unclear colored cloths. He said he had a few clean handkerchief-like rags in his bag. Seeing that Ander was not strong enough to climb the stairs, Guzman ordered several people to bring his bags from his room. Omar had told him not to look or enter that room, even though it had no door ...

Omar's wound was cleansed with very clean rags that came. But the bleeding was still continuing. Moreover, this wound had to be stitched. Ander heard it through the shouts of Guzman and Fernando. The body in the space in front of the seat in the truck and Omar was stabbed. If something else happened they wouldn't know what to do - what to do. In fact, they did not know much at that time.

Ander still didn't know what would happen when someone took the pocket knife from his pocket. Ander understood when Guzman wanted that knife to warm up over the fire. They would burn the wound.

"Bring me alcohol." There was great silence in the environment, and only Guzman's orders could be heard. Ander's ears were deaf.

Ander would have half-remembered how that wound had healed. Although they thought that the moment alcohol was spilled, his body would react, it was not what they expected. But he had reacted with the burning knife to the wound.  
The shouting after that was a complete nausea in Ander's mind. A proper stitch was needed to sew that wound. An Arab came for this. The man did this while his hands were shaking.

When the wound was finally stitched, everyone present with an uneasy gaze realized that they needed to take off the bloody shirt and jacket Omar was still wearing. At that moment, Ander was trying to recover. A sudden intervention was found.  
"I will do it." He hesitated a little. He was still sitting on his headside. He was unaware that his hands and knees were shaking. The clothes he was wearing seemed to be covered in mud. When he got up, he pointed up. "You take him to his room. I'll take care of him."

Fernando wanted to intervene, kick this kid out of this building. Guzman was not the only person stopping him, but Christian, who was not able to leave him, was standing in front of him right now. Fernando thought he could take one more day to kick out this guy.

\---

Before taking Omar upstairs, Ander asked if they could find another clean sheet. Ander hadn't brought it, knowing how dirty the mattress in his room was, but he had brought the sheet on which he was lying. Although Ander insisted that the mattress below was not brought up, it made no sense. Everyone said the same thing. They have no other mattresses to sleep.  
He was disgusted at the thought of everyone at that moment. Still, he could not allow Omar to lie on that dusty and blood-soaked mattress. He told them to bring his mattress from the second floor, no matter how heavy it smells.

While Omar's body was still in the same clothes, the men were looking at when Ander would take those clothes off. Ander hesitated. If he constantly says don't touch me, there must have been a valid reason for that. There could be something in his body that people didn't want to see. Although there is not much where there are wounds ...

When Ander told the men to leave him alone with Omar for a few minutes when they got up to the first floor, Ander remembered that he didn't know where to find the clean clothes. It just messed up Omar's room. He took off the first neat t-shirt he found - a sweater-like t-shirt - and a sweatpants.  
While Omar was still on the dirty bed sheet and mattress, Ander slowly began to remove the clothes. First the jacket, then the shirt, then the shoes still on his feet, and the pants. Ander didn't want to think in those moments. The scars on Omar's body ... the scars he caused his existence ...

Many people thought why Ander chose the first floor to dress Omar. This was an absurd event that should not have happened to them. They had opened his body long enough to clean and sew up his wound, what could have changed when he opened a little more? Then they were convinced when one of them reminded the Boss that they couldn't touch him. This could be a valid justification.

\---

  * **25 October 2004**



The first hours of the day. Night hours.

Ander was watching Omar's body in the space left by the table and the mattress in Omar's room. Thousands of thoughts crossed his mind. They burned his wound. They touched him. They stitched her wound. They didn't take him to the hospital. They left him to die mercilessly. They would let him die. What if the wound gets pus ... Or gets worse ...  
  
He felt pain in his eyes when the most destructive of the thousands of bad thoughts that came to his mind. _This wound will be permanent just like the ones you caused ..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> I'm rewriting it for clarification. Guzman, Nano and Omar are business partners.  
> Omar leads a group of Arabs who do not speak Spanish.  
> Nano only leads Spanish, and Guzman leads bilinguals.  
> They're smuggling drugs. No matter how much the three of them seem to be doing this together, they actually have another boss. They don't tell those in their group this generally, and they call Omar 'The Boss' because they get the money from him.  
> And finally, I apologize for my mistakes.


	10. Discreet and Near

  * **5 November 1991**



When Ander entered his first break, he was holding back from going near Omar.

He was embarrassed to apologize to Omar or go to him after that act yesterday. In fact, although another voice in him said he was right about it, he knew what he had done was wrong. He didn't know why he was still asking such things and leaving at that moment. At that moment he just felt that his emotions were overflowing. And suddenly their emotions were at the boiling point ...

But Omar didn't look like he had given up to come near him. A few minutes after their break, Omar came over with a smile. "Shall we go out?"

Ander replied, trying not to look at him. "It is cold outside."

Omar pretended to think. He did not seem to be ignored by Ander. "Then let's walk down the hall."

Ander continued not to look at him. He was staring at the blackboard in the classroom — even though there was nothing written on it and nothing interesting. "I don't want to walk."

Omar took a deep breath as he sat down in one of the empty benches near Ander. "Okay. Let's sit down then." Still Ander's face was facing the board. Omar did not say anything, although he felt that this was a little on his nerves. But this silence in Ander did not like it. He should have said this clearly. "Tired of talking to me?"

Ander suddenly turned to him. He was angry with himself for treating him badly enough to think of such a thing.

"No, where did you get that from?"

Omar found Ander's facial expression quite funny. He started speaking as a big smile formed on his face. "I don't know, it felt like you don't want to talk to me much anymore."

Ander opposed again.

"No, it is not."

Now Ander was staring into Omar's face. It would have made him feel worse if he didn't do this after what he made Omar think.

"I know." Omar kept smiling. Ander thought for the first time that this smile made him feel even worse.

"Omar…" He hesitated a little. His gaze was shifting again in other directions. "I apologize for yesterday."

"Why? I don't think there's anything to apologize for."

When Ander received this answer, he was even more embarrassed by what he said yesterday - what he asked.

"I said such nonsense stuff and… Uhm… And… I'm sorry for yelling." Omar thought that Ander liked his quiet and timid way very much.

"It doesn't matter. I know the problem is me too. I'm a weird person."

Ander quickly turned against him again. And he denied him. At least he tried to deny.

"No! You're not weird. You're not the problem. I'm just…" Omar was wondering what Ander would say in the rest. "I just… I don't want you to be vulnerable."

The ringtone was heard. Omar smiled at him and went back to his desk. "I'll come to you at the next break."

\---

Omar had come to Ander at the other break, just as he said. This time, the first thing Ander saw was Omar's hand, not his smiling face. Omar had extended his arm to his desk and left a notebook on his desk.

"What's this?" Ander asked.

"My interest."

The first thing Ander did when he picked up the notebook was to examine the outside. He thought it had a nice cover. Cool. It's a surreal beauty that Ander thought out of his reach but now has it within his reach. Splendid.

"Your interest?"

"Yes, you can open it up and look it."

Ander slowly opened the notebook. He looked at first with the corner of his eye and then with interest. He saw some writings. Ander was not very fond of reading. But the way of writing affected him. Pretty nice writing style. Omar's handwriting style.

"What are these?" He asked as he slowly turned the pages.

"Poems."

Ander hesitated when he heard the answer. Because for him these were like ordinary writing. He thought that poems should be written differently. Separately, line by line. Sentences are not combined. This was the poems that Ander saw, and it should have been. But he did not object. After reading a few words it would be foolish to deny that these writings are poems.

"Who wrote these poems?"

Omar chuckled.

"Poets."

"No, I didn't mean it." Ander continued to speak as he ran his hand over the writings. "Whose handwriting is this?"

Omar tried to look at Ander's hands running with a big smile on his face. "Just me."

"As I guessed." Ander continued to speak, not taking his eyes off the writing. "Very beautiful."

Omar was amazed by Ander's look in saying this. He was amazed by the smile on his face as he said this. Omar felt that he was more and more admired by him.

"You're exaggerating, it's an ordinary writing style. What really matters is the people who pen it."

"No." Ander objected directly. "For me, this writing style is more matters. This style is even better than the writing of the teachers. So it's very nice." Ander continued before Omar could say anything more. "Are you interested in these poems now? Or is it writing them?"

Omar sat on the desk near Ander - the empty desk at the break. "To poems, poets, writers. All the poems in this notebook are from different poets. I saw them in old books and I chose the ones I like the most and wrote them here. There are still blank pages, but I will complete."

"I have no doubt that it will be complete."

Ander began to read one of the scriptures on which he ran his hand. He thought he was interested. " _I shall be, I, His faithful dog._ What does she mean here?"

Omar looked at the writing and the poet. "I don't know. I didn't think about it, I liked it. I wrote it." And when he thought a little bit, something came to mind. "But... As far as I remember. It must be from a very old book."

"Paul Verlaine?" Ander read the name under the sentence he read. "Is this a poet?"

"Yes, he's the man who wrote the sentence you read."

"Man? Is he a man?" It is not known if Ander was disappointed, but he believed that the author was a woman. That's why he couldn't hide his astonishment.

"Yeah, why would you be surprised?" Omar asked, more puzzled than Ander's gaze. As if this was possible.

"I don't know, I thought it might be a woman. A tough woman."

Omar liked that Ander was looking through the notebook seriously. He couldn't help smiling while watching him.  
He said that it would not be a problem to keep the notebook in Ander while going to his place when the bell rang. He even asked Ander to complete the empty spaces in the book if possible.  
Although Ander first objected to this, he admitted both because of the lack of time and because it seemed like a very good idea to him at that time.  
He would complete Omar's notebook for Omar ...

And Ander had learned a new runaway fun in class. Looking at the beauty of Omar's writing in his notebook.

"Poets."

"No, I didn't mean it." Ander continued to speak as he ran his hand over the writings. "Whose handwriting is this?"

Omar tried to look at Ander's hands running with a big smile on his face. "Just me."

"As I guessed." Ander continued to speak, not taking his eyes off the writing. "Very beautiful."

Omar was amazed by Ander's look in saying this. He was amazed by the smile on his face as he said this. Omar felt that he was more and more admired by him.

"You're exaggerating, it's an ordinary writing style. What really matters is the people who pen it."

"No." Ander objected directly. "For me, this writing style is more matters. This style is even better than the writing of the teachers. So it's very nice." Ander continued before Omar could say anything more. "Are you interested in these poems now? Or is it writing them?"

He sat on the bench near Omar Ander - the empty bench at the end. "To poems, poets, writers. All the poems in this notebook are from different poets. I saw them in old books and I chose the ones I like the most and wrote them here. There are still blank pages, but I will complete."

"I have no doubt that it will be complete."

Ander began to read one of the scriptures on which he ran his hand. He thought he was interested. " _I shall be, I, His faithful dog._ What does she mean here?"

Omar looked at the writing and the poet. "I don't know. I didn't think about it, I liked it. I wrote it."

"Paul Verlaine?" Ander read the name under the sentence he read. "Is this a poet?"

"Yes, he's the man who wrote the sentence you read."

"Man? This poet is a man?" It is not known if Ander was disappointed, but he believed that the author was a woman. That's why he couldn't hide his astonishment.

"Yeah, why would you be surprised?" Omar asked, more puzzled than Ander's gaze. As if this was possible.

"I don't know, I thought it might be a woman. A tough woman."

Omar liked that Ander was looking through the notebook seriously. He couldn't help smiling while watching him.

He said that it would not be a problem to keep the notebook in Ander while going to his place when the bell rang. He even asked Ander to complete the empty spaces in the book if possible.

Although Ander first objected to this, he admitted both because of the lack of time and because it seemed like a very good idea to him at that time.

He would complete Omar's notebook for Omar ...

And Ander had learned a new runaway fun in class. Looking at the beauty of Omar's writing in his notebook.

**_"It is you, it is you, poor better thoughts!_ **   
**_The needful hope, shame for the ancient blots,_ **   
**_Heart's gentleness with mind's severity,_ **   
**_And vigilance, and calm, and constancy,_ **   
**_And all!-But slow as yet, though well awake;_ **   
**_Though sturdy, shy; scarce able yet to break_ **   
**_The spell of stifling night and heavy dreams._ **   
**_One comes after the other, and each seems_ **   
**_Uncouther, and all fear the moonlight cold._ **   
**_'Thus, sheep when first they issue from the fold,_ **   
**_Come,-one, then two, then three. The rest delay,_ **   
**_With lowered heads, in stupid, wondering way,_ **   
**_Waiting to do as does the one that leads._ **   
**_He stops, they stop in turn, and lay their heads_ **   
**_Across his back, simply, not knowing why.'_ **   
**_Your shepherd, O my fair flock, is not I,-_ **   
**_It is a better, better far, who knows_ **   
**_The reasons, He that so long kept you close,_ **   
**_But timely with His own hand set you free._ **   
**_Him follow,-light His staff. And I shall be,_ **   
**_Beneath his voice still raised to comfort you,_ **   
**_I shall be, I, His faithful dog, and true."_ **

\---

  * **25 October 2004**



When the daylight showed up, Omar still had no symptoms on his body.

Looking at the body he had been watching all night, Ander had closed his eyes several times, resting his eyes a little. But it could not be said that he could sleep.

Although the door of the room was clicked several times, he did not hear.

"Ander are you in?" Guzman's voice was heard outside the room. This was what brought Ander back to his seat. He felt his legs and right shoulder ache when he tried to stand up. Sitting in the same position all night - standing there - wasn't good for his body.

Guzman was staring downward as Ander moved slowly and opened the door. Although he tried to smile when the door opened, he could not.

"Is Omar awake?"

Ander only knew nodding in response. In a negative sense.

Guzman responded with a murmuring voice the moment he got the answer he predicted. "I understand."

Ander saw the misery in the man's gaze. He did not know if that misery was due to Omar or the 'delivery' that ended in yesterday's misery.

He didn't care. He just thought for a moment. It was a useful way to silence the thoughts in his head for a moment.

And before Ander closed the door again, Guzman put his hand on it.

"Actually, I came to ask if you weren't going to have breakfast." Ander had seen the timid attitude of the man opposite. Although they still didn't know each other well, he knew that it wasn't because of their recent acquaintance. Especially after what happened yesterday ...

"No." His voice was hoarse than he had expected. He didn't know if Guzman understood.

"Okay. If you need anything, please don't be shy to say it." Ander could have laughed at what he said. Even though he repeatedly cursed their attitudes, he could not say anything. Ander thought how much he needed that childish courage.

\---

As Guzman descended the stairs, he did not expect to encounter a Fernanado roaring angrily inside the building.

First, he had seen Christian hand a newspaper-like piece of paper to Fernando at the entrance. Then the loud cursing of Fernando and the tense atmosphere that had been tense since last night.

Fernando was coming towards him when Guzman reached them. Behind him is Christian, who always follows him.

"Where's that shit guest?" Guzman was now seeing Fernando crumpling the paper in his hand. His fists were at the ready.

"Do you mean Ander?" Guzman was accustomed to Fernando's sudden rage. And this was not the first case. That's why he kept his calmness very well.

"What the fuck is he. Where's that motherfucker?" Fernando continued to speak in the same anger — even with the anger that was heightened by Guzman's annoying calm.

"But in Omar's room…" When Fernando was already out of his sight, Guzman made eye contact with Christian behind Fernando. He continued the conversation on his face. "What's going on?"

"Not good things. Not good." Fernando had already reached the stairs when Christian replied quickly.

Christian was behind Fernando, Guzman followed by them up the stairs. Fernando had already entered Omar's room.

\---

Ander didn't know what to do when Fernando quickly opened the door. He was now being pushed out of his left arm, sitting in one of the rare vacant places in the room. Ander was unresponsive as Fernando led him out of the room with many insults. Although he questioned what had happened several times, the weight he had been on since yesterday could not even open his mouth to him.

Ander fell to the ground when Fernando pushed him out of the room. He made a painful groan as he landed on his right shoulder. But he could not respond loudly. A silent groan came out of his mouth. Silent enough for Fernando and the others to be heard, but loud enough for Ander to hear.

"You scum! Did you kill your own father! Are you a murderer?"

Ander understood the situation well. But he neither felt strong enough to open his mouth nor had the energy to deny these writers. Ander was feeling very weak at that moment.

"What are you talking about?" Ander heard the voice of Guzman. He was staring in astonishment at Ander, who was stretched out on the ground, and Fernando, who stood at his head.

"Omar fool's guest apparently was a murderer. Father's killer!" He told Guzman as he held out the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

Ander had seen Guzman's facial expression for a few seconds. He was astonished when he looked at the newspaper. Focusing on the look in Guzman's eyes for a few seconds, Ander made a sudden move to get off the ground. But he could not do this with power from his right shoulder. Fernando grabbed her by the hair when she tried to get up on her back. Now he shouted in a stronger and bitter groan.

Fernando's face was in line with him. He was looking angrily into his eyes. Ander thought that this man - this shit - across his hair was getting dirty in his hand.

"Or is that why Omar took you here? To protect you?"

Ander felt he could speak at last. Omar was not even the last person to be blamed for this.

But the first person to blame for them was their business partner.

"What are you talking about, asshole? Let me go." Ander said while trying to stand up to Fernando.

"Omar knew you were the killer and he took you here because he wants to protect you. He is fucking an idiot!" Fernando was beginning to pull Ander's hair more.

When Ander finally found strength, he pushed Fernando by his chest with his left hand. "Stop this nonsense! There is no such thing."

Fernando was on the ground when Ander stood up. But this was a rapid displacement. Not only did Fernando have a power over him, he also put pressure on his shoulder. Now he was trying to force him on the ground.

Fernando quickly put his right hand to Ander's throat and his left hand to his hair. Guzman realized he could no longer wait on the sidelines. He even forgot the existence of the newspaper in his possession to prevent Fernando. And he threw the newspaper on the floor. Christian was hesitant to intervene or not. He was just watching what happened with a blank stare.

"What do you mean, there is no such thing! 'He killed his father' on the picture in the newspapers. Who are you deceiving?"

Ander was able to prevent the hand that was clinging to his throat, but could not interfere with the hand leading to his hair. Still, his face was very close to his.

"I. Didn't. Kill. Anyone."

Fernando was beginning to speak to himself. But Guzman finally pulled both hands off Ander, pulling Fernando away from him for a bit. But it required a real expenditure of strength. Fernando didn't know what meant to stop.

"Aren't you Ander Munoz?" The person who asked this question with great calm was Guzman. He continued to speak as Ander looked at him.

"You killed your father in your own house. The cops were after you too."

Ander covered his face with his hands. He took a deep breath. No matter how long Fernando didn't reach his throat, it made him gasp for a moment.

"I didn't kill anyone. Nobody's after me!" Ander said -repeated-, raising his voice.

Fernando wanted to quickly approach him with his fist, as Guzman blocked him with both arms. He was holding him by his chest and Fernando was shouting trying to get away from him.

"Let me go. Guzman! I'm going to fuck his face." Guzman spoke out, ignoring his accusations. "Take it easy! Remember that Omar took him here."

"That's the problem! Omar accepted a murderer here like that. Then the police came here. He took Omar away. And that idiot didn't even tell us why." Fernando shouted back at Guzman.

Ander suddenly approached them with strong courage, not knowing where he was coming from.

"I am telling you again, idiot! I didn't kill anybody! Omar has nothing to do with it."

"But he knew, didn't he?" Guzman interrupted. He spoke with the same calmness. "He knew you killed your father- No- Your father was killed."

Ander could not protest. But that was not a reason to keep quiet.

"I had to say when I got here and… Omar has nothing to do with that. Why don't you understand?"

Fernando got rid of Guzman completely. He took advantage of the emptiness of his conversation with Ander for a few minutes. When he attacked rapidly towards Ander, this time there was a voice that interrupted him.

"Stop it now!"

Ander knew very well who the voice belonged to. But he wanted to be sure. He wanted to make sure he was dreaming. He was sitting on the bed in the room with a wide open door.

Omar finally awoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paul Verlaine: was a French poet. I specifically wanted this poet to be featured in this story because he had a homosexual relationship with Arthur Rimbaud.  
> If you are wondering about him;  
> [Biography](https://www.britannica.com/biography/Verlaine-Paul)  
> [Poems](http://www.fullbooks.com/Poems-of-Paul-Verlaine.html)  
> Thank you for reading! I want to take this story slow and write everything in detail. So it takes time. And I will be glad if you share your thoughts with me.


	11. Handicapped and Demented

  * **25 October 2004**



"Stop it now!"

Ander knew very well who the voice belonged to. But he wanted to be sure. He wanted to make sure he was dreaming. He was sitting on the bed in the room with a wide open door.

Omar finally awoke.

\---

Omar could hear the shouts coming from outside the door with his eyes open. His body was in excruciating pain as he covered his eyelids with a thousand tons of weight. When he resisted to sleep again, he heard those shouts more clearly. It was difficult to choose who the voices belonged to. But he could guess.

Hearing those shouts at the first moment when he opened his eyes caused a severe headache in his head. There was a ringing in his ears. All of this blurred his vision.

He felt a sudden pain in his stomach when he tried to get up on his mattress. When he was back on the bed, he could now choose the voices of the arguing people. The desire to get straight increased from his bed even more.

When he got up on his bed anymore, he didn't mind the pain in his stomach. He spoke at first in a low voice then shouting.

"Enough. Stop it now!"

Omar was supported by the wall. He couldn't believe he was shouting when it was too hard to even sit down now. It had a dry taste in his throat. An unidentified ache in his body. Whenever he felt like he was about to tip over the mattress again, he saw Ander rushed into the room.

"Omar." Ander was the first to react to his voice. He instantly entered the room and moved to where Omar was sitting. "Are you okay? Why did you get up? You'll pull out your stitches."

Ander didn't realize he was speaking fast. He just said what he thought.

"Do not touch." Ander heard this very comfortably when Omar said in a low voice. He pulled his hand back as soon as he moved towards Omar. Touching him was all he wanted right now.

"Are you okay?" Ander was a little closer to Omar. It felt like a punishment not to be able to touch him, even though he agreed to even this tiny distance between them. If he received a physical punishment for what he did, it would not hurt that much.

While Ander's full attention was on Omar, he forgot the people in front of the door. Omar was looking at them with a scowl.

"If you have a problem, you can solve it with me, Nano." When Omar spoke in a fragile voice, everyone was watching him in a silent way.

"My problem is this murderer-"

"Enough is enough now! Can't you see? He's barely sitting." Guzman interrupted Fernando. He signaled that he should take her away from the door and go out here. Fernando wrapped his disgusted glances over Omar and Ander.

He looked at Omar one last time as he prepared to descend the stairs.

"This is not over here."

\---

Omar had let himself back on his bed after Fernando left. Ander was still watching him at the beginning of his sleeping place, as Guzman gazed at her with anxious gaze.

"Do you need something?" Ander said he wanted to stretch his hand to him and pulled it back each time.

Omar murmured with his eyes closed, although he wanted not to reveal how much pain he had suffered. "Water."

Ander wanted to give Omar the water himself while reaching for him, remembering the bottle he brought with him last night. "You have to raise your head a little bit."

Omar took the bottle in Ander's hand in a hurry. He showed great sensitivity not to contact. "Not necessary." He started drinking the water in the bottle after muttering something like. He was able to move his head a little, but he hadn't fully confirmed it in mattress. Half of the water he drank was coming out of his mouth. All he wanted was to wet his already dry mouth and get that strange taste in his mouth.

"I'll prepare something for you." before Guzman walks through the door, he said and left.

Ander felt like he had to do something but he couldn't. He seemed to be caught up in that uneasy feeling he had yesterday. He was awake. And all he did was watch him again. In this case, the word that suits him best is 'useless'.

"Give me that piece of paper."

Ander couldn't hear what Omar said. His head was very distracted at that moment. Although he was facing Omar, he did not understand what he was saying. "Huh? What? What did you say?"

"Give me that piece of paper in the door and close the door." Omar's voice sounded very hard.

Ander did not quite understand what he was saying at first. He seemed to have forgotten that great controversy they had a few minutes ago. When he turned his head to the door, he understood better what he meant. "You mean the newspaper." he muttered. When he got to the door, he quickly picked up the crumpled newspaper on the floor. And he closed the door gently.

He saw more clearly what was written in the newspaper now. _Champion Tennis Player Killed His Coach Father ..._

"Give it to me." Omar said. Ander was still quite distracted. Now he felt even worse after reading what was in the newspaper more clearly.

"Omar, do I really need to do this?" Ander spoke in a pleading voice.

"I said give it to me." His voice sounded rather tired, but he was determined. Besides, Ander felt that he had to hand the newspaper over to him now that he had moved a little while lying down.

Omar quickly took it from his hand when he slowly handed the newspaper to him. He could see the change in her face as she sat on the floor where Omar stretched out his legs. But he didn't know why. He still hadn't been able to read the article in its full sense. His mind was on the newspaper's headline and who this article might have reached.

At that moment that face change was starting to frighten Ander. Omar remained silent for a few minutes. Then he pulled the newspaper out of sight and looked at Ander. Looking at Ander a long time later, he felt that the black veil that had appeared in his eye was disappearing.

"Did you quit tennis?"

Ander was rubbing his face with his hand. He had no idea what to say. He didn't even want to talk about that.

"Is this really important right now?"

No matter how harsh and rough Omar wanted his voice to sound, he couldn't. His voice was tired and fragile.

"I asked you a question, Ander."

Ander took a deep breath. He didn't know why he didn't say that until now. Maybe he didn't say it because he felt that Omar should be angry with him. Or because he really doesn't want to remember those moments.

"Yes, I quit for about a year. I don't play anymore."

Omar looked at him with a confused expression, he could only read what was written in the newspaper up to that part. Until the part where Ander left tennis ...

"Despite your father?" This question meant many things. Ander understood this well both from his voice and his facial expression. It reminded him of all the things he could not do in his father's presence. Things he couldn't do because of his father ... Things he do because of his father ... Saying this relieved Ander's conscience, but he knew. Being discouraged was his fault. It was entirely his fault to defeat his father and not be able to stand up to him.

"Yes, despite my father."

Omar felt something crumble in his heart. Or that the broken pieces in his heart are repaired. It was a strange feeling. It was not relief, or disappointment. It was like a new feeling that was a mixture of the two. He felt he wanted to cry. His eyes were full of tears. He didn't care about the deep pain in his stomach. He felt a great pain in his heart. A very deep ache ... He was freed from a burden. Or that burden was put on his heart again.

"He actually had to accept it. So I had to quit." Continuing his words, Ander had trouble speaking as much as Omar. He often felt a pain in his chest. This was the reason why he took a deep breath.

"Why is that?" Ander heard the kindness in Omar's voice. He seemed to be seeing that child he remembered.

"I was injured." Ander said quickly. Then he started telling slowly. It was clear that Omar wanted to hear this from all his states. "I had some kind of muscle tear in my right shoulder. The doctors were saying I should rest, and everyone agreed I should take a break for a while. Except for my father." Ander was disgusted by the feeling of weakness that spread to his body when it came to his father. He couldn't get his words together when this sarcastic and many other sensations overflowed his body.

He waited a while. He could see that Omar was still looking at him with interest. Taking strength from that gaze, he continued his words. "My father ... thought I had to play, and we were in a tournament when all this happened. My father said it would be a sign of cowardice if we pulled back from the competitions. If I lose it will be a big stain on my career. I didn't go into a rest period as the doctors said. At the same pace, even I continued to play tennis at an even harder pace, and ... as a result ... my right shoulder and arm became unusable. My father ... realized that I had to quit when my arm was too weak to hold a glass of water. Doctors ... Doctors said, if you want us to cut off your son's right arm completely, you can continue this brutal pace. But my arm was too bad to be used anymore. "

"I understand better now." Omar said. The only thing that could rid him of this sense of helplessness he felt while listening to Ander was to think of something else. Otherwise, the feeling he felt was no stranger at all. But it was painful.

"What?" Ander asked absently.

"Why they suspect you." he waited a while. It continued after a prolonged swallow. "You were at odds with your father. And your arguments were in the public eye. That's why they suspected you first."

Ander just shook his head. The fact that Omar knew himself better than anyone he knew struck him again.

"Tell me now. Why don't you let me touch you? No. Why don't you let anyone touch you?"

Omar looked away. He knew he would hear this question. He had heard from many people before and gave simple answers or passed away without any answers. He knew he couldn't do that to Ander. He knew that Ander would not believe those simple answers. But he didn't feel he had the strength to speak.

"You're almost dead ... They let you suffer out of sight, Omar. Why did they let this happen? What is it that I don't know?"

Ander continued to speak feverishly. There was a faint anger in his voice for what happened in his mind yesterday. When Omar suffered yesterday, he was not sure what was happening around him. But he remembered the disgust he felt when someone's hand touched him.

"I said before that you don't know anything." Omar was able to say this when he found strength. He did not know the pitiful feeling Ander felt about it, but he did. "I don't want to talk now. It hurts."

Ander saw that Omar was moving a little while lying down. This was kind of a warning. He was telling Ander that he should stay where he was sitting - where Omar's legs were lying. Ander got up without much waiting. He wouldn't have expected him to post something, as Guzman said. He would go and buy something to eat.

As he moved to leave the room, Omar opened his closed eyes and stopped him with a tired voice.

"You dressed these clothes, right?"

Ander murmured.

"Yes."

\---

  * **5 November 1991**



Ander, while being cold towards Omar, actually realized how impossible it was for him. He wanted that little boy to treat him better. He wanted people to respond when he humiliated him, to defend himself, and to be better received by people.  
For the moment, these wishes seemed too normal, feasible, and anything could happen if people's prejudices were destroyed.

This was a childhood belief. And over time he would learn that not everything was as easy as he thought. He would be forced to learn.

It was one of those moments when he left school that evening. It's one of those moments when he realizes that not everything is as simple as he thought ...

When he finally closed that little argument with Omar, Ander could do another activity that he loves to do.

As soon as everyone was getting ready and leaving the classroom, Ander moved on to Omar's turn. Omar was a little slow these days. Ander was too young to notice this.

"Let's go home together."

He wasn't sure if his mother would accompany him that day. His mother usually told him how to return home in the morning, and during the day Ander would never see his mother at school again. There were moments they encountered in their old school. But he didn't even know the class in which his mother worked in this school. This was something Ander didn't care much about. But his mother would definitely tell him in which class he taught, in case he had a need. When they moved to this town, she said he could talk to his father if he needed something.

And it was the first time when his mother came here that he asked for help from his father, not from her. Ander would never have suspected this either.  
As long as they went home together in the evening and went to school together in the morning, her mother's task would be enough.

And Ander, in that school, in that town, wanted to befriend someone in a way he hadn't witnessed. This kept him away from family problems. It was like medicine and poison to him. He had determined when he was younger that Omar could drown in his current.

Everything was normal before he left school on his way home. Students' voices and some car sounds were heard around. A normal noise experienced at every exit hour.

At that moment something was heard that interrupted the noise. A voice ... Like a human voice but not like.

Ander first thought it might be a scream. It sounded like that. However it wasn't. Omar also knew that this voice was not a scream.

Nobody knew exactly the source of the sound. But there was a direction it came from. Eyes turned that way.

The voice of the crowd - students - was less audible now. The voice that Ander thought was a scream could be understood more clearly.

"Iman! Iman!"

The man was calling someone's name. He was wearing some kind of nightgown. His mouth half open, eyes up. Ander thought at that moment how sickly the man looked. At least it was clear that he didn't look normal.

As his eyes wandered off the man, he noticed that several people were trying to pull him by the arms. Moreover, this image was even more unbearable. Those who pulled the man's arms sometimes hit the man's body and said something that Ander could not understand. Voices were heard clearly, but the language was not clear. As if understanding things weren't difficult enough, the spoken language was different.

"Omar, do you understand what they're saying?" Ander spoke when he turned to his right to see Omar's face.

However, when he saw his friend's face, he forgot the question he had just asked. As if to cry, no, ashamed ... Ander didn't know exactly what the emotion was on his face. He had never seen Omar's facial expression before. He wishes he had never seen it.

"What happened? What's the matter?" He asked quickly. He put his right hand to his shoulder.

Omar was shaken like he woke up from a nightmare. Finally, he took his eyes off his focus and remembered Ander's existence.

At that moment an article appeared in his mind. Ander must not see ...

"Sorry ... I have to go first ..."

"What? What happened?" Ander asked, panicking.

Although Omar aimed to get away quickly, he could not. His feet were not going. He had a tremendous shame. And now this embarrassment was in front of everyone - Ander. He was very afraid. And he could have the moment when he was afraid.

A few steps he had taken to get away from Ander were wasted. Ander was holding him by the arm and intervening firmly to prevent him from leaving.

"What's going on?"

Omar almost seemed to cry. In particular, he tried to hide his face with his right arm, and his other arm to free him from Ander. But this has not been a very successful attempt.

"Let me go. I have to go."

"Why? What happened suddenly?"

Omar was not the person to answer Ander. An adult who did not understand when they came near drew Omar towards him. Ander's hand had to leave Omar but he didn't do that.

"Take your sick father home. It makes people uncomfortable."

Omar thought twice. He could give anything so that this person who came with them would not speak Spanish. So that Ander doesn't understand what's happening right now.

"Your father? Is that sick man? Is that sick man your father?"

Ander's sudden words were only the effect of surprise. And when Ander recalled that he had no hesitation in his thoughts against Omar, the words that were pouring out of his mouth at that moment were very normal. According to him. According to that child.

But it wasn't for Omar. Those words were not normal for Omar.

The best person he ever had called his father as the others. Now that he knew his father, he could be scared and change his mind. It was also said that he was a murderer, mother murderer. Why was Ander befriended Omar?

Omar could feel Ander's hand in his arm, though still loose. He muttered vaguely words as he took that hand away from his body without hesitation.

"I'm sorry, I have to go."

Ander was in awe. He didn't know if it was just like he had heard, but Omar had gone to the sick man who was bothering people. He was trying to pull him away from the front of the school, like the other people who went to the man.

Ander had never thought that Omar could have such a father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading !!  
> Feel free to tell me your opinion :)


	12. Unforgettable and Untouchable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the YEARS and DAYS!

  * **26 October 2004**



There were no words to express nervous spirit the building received.

Ander seemed to be able to feel his eyes on him, although he had not left Omar's room since yesterday except for his needs. Moreover, there was the possibility that Nano had incited people against him, and Ander was afraid, although he did not say this. The only person he could speak of was Omar. He had only had his eyes open a few times since yesterday on Omar. One of them had to use the toilet. And because Ander - no one else - could help him, he was so tired when he got out and in that he hadn't woken up from the moment he put his head on his bed.

Omar could feel his body getting heavier the day after he opened his eyes for the first time. He looked at his wound just to use the toilet, and he was amazed at how he was standing with the view he saw at that time. However, as people touching him seemed worse than this wound, he went back to bed without any help.

And the next morning, before getting up from the bed, he had just opened his eyes. That's when he felt the weight in his body - as if weight was placed on his body. He had taken strength from the wall and the floor to stand up several times, but that only hurt his wound even more.

He did not realize that Ander was not in the room until before the door opened. But then it occurred to him that if Ander was in the room, he would keep telling him not to push himself so hard. He could not believe he had accepted this.

When the door opened he saw his first face. Then he saw something like a tray in his hand and Guzman, who was hesitant to enter the room behind him.

"I brought you breakfast and a painkiller." he said. He placed the tray on the huge table in the room. Then he turned and continued to speak, showing Guzman, who had a strange timidity, with his eyes. "This guy wanted to come too."

Omar could barely sit on the mattress. His hand was not leaving the area where his aching wound was. And this did not escape Ander's sight.

When Guzman felt that Omar's gaze was on him, he started speaking.

"We need to talk, Omar."

Omar let out a deep breath. Ander waited, unsure whether to put the tray in front of Omar. Guzman closed the still open door.

"Tell me. What's the matter?" Omar said. His voice was rather muffled. He himself was surprised, but Guzman did not pay attention.

He immediately sat down on the empty part of Omar's bed. Ander knew he couldn't put the tray in that tiny space. So he decided he would wait for the conversation to end. And the topic of the conversation seemed to interest him, too.

"Nano's brother will come." Guzman hesitated. He could see Omar's brow furrowing.

"Will he come here?" There was a faint anger in Omar's voice.

And then Ander interrupted. "I thought you were not accept guests."

Omar could not turn and look at Ander. He had no strength to turn his body or head. But Guzman gave him a strange look. An unsure look if he's angry. Then he turned back to Omar. And he gave his attention to him.

"He'll come here. Nano told me his brother was angry that we couldn't get the money. But…" He hesitated. He tried to rethink what was on his mind. He had to be sure once again before telling Omar.

"But what, Guzman?" Omar asked when he decided that Guzman wasn't going to continue.

"Isn't it strange that they let each other know in such a short time?" said suddenly. Ander was quite surprised by what he said, thinking that Guzman and Nano were getting along, but he clearly suspected him. Perhaps Ander gave too much meaning to it. Because Omar did not react to what Guzman said.

Guzman continued to speak. Faster and quieter. It's like sharing a secret.

"We did the delivery on the night of 24. It's ridiculous that his brother wanted to come here suddenly, even if we think that he informed him yesterday. He could tell him we postponed the delivery or something like that. Why would he let him come here?"

Ander interrupted Guzman again with a sentence approving. It was sewn directly above the two, with their arms tied together. Still, he was still behind Omar.

"Right. Wasn't this man who didn't want to take strangers here?" Guzman rolled a glance at Ander, but Omar responded.

"His brother has come here before, but he doesn't stay here like you." With that sentence, Omar knew that even though Ander snapped, there was still some truth when they said it. The man who was so opposed to strangers was suddenly going to receive guests into the building, just two days after delivery. His brother or someone else... it doesn't matter who stranger was.

Omar returned to Guzman after waiting a bit.

"Will he bring someone else with him?" he asked.

Guzman shook his head.

"He didn't tell me anything. He just said he will come."

There was silence in the environment for a short time. Omar was thinking, Guzman was afraid to voice his thoughts. Still, he had no choice but to trust him.

"Do you think he could have told his brother earlier when we were going to deliver?"

Omar looked into Guzman's eyes. He was aware of how hesitant he was. The reason for this hesitation was that what he said might be true. Or maybe he was still hiding something he couldn't see.

"He may know about the people who attacked us. Are you trying to say that?" Omar asked without hesitation. He was already tired both mentally and physically for those kinds of emotions.

"I guess... Yes." Guzman looked down.

When the silence was restored, Omar took a slow breath. And he started talking. Without hesitation, without anger, calmly.

"Even without him, it was one of us who attacked us." Guzman instantly turned his gaze to Omar. Ander was very careful. "Not just the time, but the way the truck will go, our meeting place and the time we'll meet. They knew everything. There were five men and Nano in the back of the truck. It all happened at the moment they got out. Was it really all coincidence?"

"I do not know." Guzman muttered. He was rubbing his temples with both hands.

"Also ..." Omar swallowed. The pain in his stomach was hurting him very much. Ander was the only person who paid attention to this when he interrupted his speech. "Besides, those who attacked us were not professionals, they were an ordinary group. Or they could easily use guns and kill us. Instead, they turned a blind eye. They neutralized me and the driver, took the goods and ran away."

"That's right. They could use the gun, they had stabbed the driver." Guzman murmured again. He jumped to his feet when he sighed and took his hands from his temples. He was having trouble controlling his voice. "Now that means... Is this guy betraying us?"

"Lower your voice, Guzman." Omar said it out loud at first. Then he continued quietly. "They will hear."

"Damn!" Guzman cursed as if exhaling.

"I'm not sure if he betrayed us or not." Omar said, looking at the space in front of him.

"What are you talking about, Omar? That fucking guy betrayed us." Guzman said as he struggled to control his nerves. "He'll take all the money and run away, dishonest. And my sist- Damn!"

Ander could see the intensity of Guzman's anger. But he wasn't sure how to calm him down. It's not just Ander. Omar wasn't sure he could calm him down either. Especially from his seat.

"He might just have told him the place and the time." Omar muttered helplessly.

Guzman laughed angrily. "Even that shows us he betrayed." He was already walking and swearing in the narrow space inside the room.

"Guzman, think about it. Maybe just Samuel could have done it. You know he was always bother about his brother being in this stuff."

"Samuel can't do anything on his own! This dishonest and his brother are going to plan and get all the money."

"I'm not saying he did these things himself." Omar spoke loudly to oppose Guzman.

Guzman was not listening to a normal voice. Omar wanted to respond even more furiously. But that hurt quite a lot.

He hesitated a little. He waited for the pain in his stomach to subside a little. He continued to speak. 

"This man had a friend. She was selling drugs too."

Guzman didn't react. He was still busy wandering around the tiny area of the room.

"What was the name of that woman? ... Bormujo ..."

"Rebeka." Guzman responded to Omar's muttering to himself.

"Perhaps Samuel made a deal with that woman on our goods and gave them to her. To save his own brother from this mess."

Guzman felt like he was going to lose his mind. Betrayed feeling was driving him crazy. He was gnawing through his body. Ander, on the other hand, felt quite unfamiliar with what happened and what was spoken.

"Still that fucking guy is in this, I'm going to kill him!" Just as Guzman was almost leaving the room, he was stopped by Ander.

It was clear that Guzman was asking Ander to let him go as he gave a strange glance at the right arm he was holding.

"What's the use of this nerve now?" Guzman shoved Ander's hand. Ander continued to speak, however. "Show some respect for this state of Omar."

No matter how much Guzman could not control the anger over him, he knew how right this stranger -Ander- was. Omar had turned his head to him before he could speak.

"You have to be calm whether you want to or not." Omar had tried to turn his body in the direction of Guzmán. He did as best he could. "And you have to think right. He's our business partner. And whatever happens, he's a member of your family."

"Family member?" Ander's confused voice interrupted. How angry Guzman was at this question, he found Ander's reaction funny. This calmed him down a bit.

"Yes." Guzman answered. He continued as he cursed himself with the thoughts running through his mind. "My sister's fiancee."

"I can't believe it. Did you let your sister be with that man?" Ander suddenly asked. He asked, not thinking that Guzman might get angry and upset.

"Ander!" Omar could only understand when he shouted at him that he had said something wrong. He raised both hands and spoke, looking at Omar. 

"Pardon."

After looking at Ander and Omar, Guzman almost felt like he wanted to scream at the thought that came into his mind.

"That dishonest thought to take our money and run away with my sister. I am- damn! Stupid, stupid!"

"Stop burdening yourself, Guzman. Think about what we're going to do." Omar spoke harshly. To show your attitude. He was very determined.

As impossible as it seemed to him at that moment, Guzman was starting to think of other things. He remembered how unfriendly the men in his group looked at him, that no one could fully trust anyone anymore, and most importantly, they had no money. With a strong swallow, he looked at the two men in the tiny room, who seemed far from him. He leaned over Omar's side. He started talking to his face.

"We may actually have a more serious problem than these."

Omar replied as if he had read his mind.

"Is it a problem like we don't have money?"

Guzman let out a deep breath. At first he did not think that Omar could say such a thing, but there was always a side in the workforce that Omar took on; Money. It was not there anymore.

"The people in my group have been waiting to cause unrest since yesterday." He continued to speak, getting a little more angry. "I wouldn't have to think about that now if I had found someone like Nano that would be following me like a dog. Christian may be an idiot, but he rushes to all the work of that dishonest."

Omar did not reflect on what Guzman said. He was silent. He only had to find options that could solve this problem.

"How much money did you bargain with your men?"

Guzman took a look at this question. His associates, who followed the money, were asking about money. It was clear from here that they were an excellent team.

"How's that question Omar? I got along for the same money as everyone else." he waited a while. He prepared to move back to where Omar lived. "They also knew that the only day I would pay them was the delivery day. That's why they are very angry. They know they can't get their money."

At that moment, Ander wanted to be involved. He didn't know where this idea came from, or that courage. He was suddenly immersed in the conversation. Omar's desire to forgive himself must have blinded him.

"If money is the problem ..." his voice was suddenly muted. He saw the two pairs of eyes return to him. "... I can handle it."

Guzman's gaze seemed interested. But Omar seemed to be challenging. With his gaze, the clenched hand on his wound, it was clear that he was angry with every detail. Ander clearly knew the reason for that anger. But at that moment he wanted to help him.

"Really? Can you really handle it?" It was Guzman who broke the silence in the environment.

“If it's going to fix the problem-” Ander was looking at Omar as he spoke timidly.

"No! It's not going to happen." Omar interrupted Ander and showed his clear stance.

When Guzman heard about the prospect of Nano betraying them, he was sure that Omar wasn't so angry. This made him even more curious. He realized that Ander would not be persistent when his gaze dropped. So he thought as if he had to make an effor of himself and turned to Omar.

"We need money, Omar. You realize it, right?"

Omar quickly turned to Guzman. He looked angrier than Guzman thought. This was an image that shocked even Guzman's body.

"I don't care! This guy's money-"

"This guy?" Guzman's eyebrows were raised. There was a very suspicious attitude in his voice. "I thought you were trying to protect him. Now you're talking like he's a stranger?" He suddenly turned his gaze to Ander and asked. "What exactly is between you two?"

Ander opened his mouth. Guzman at that moment thought he would get an answer. However, he instantly heard Omar's voice.

"I don't protect anyone or anything. That was your absurd assumption."

"Why are you keeping him here then?" Guzman suddenly asked.

Omar knew that a single word to answer would make Guzman wrong. And so he would become even more suspicious. That's why he was thinking hard. What should he say, what should he react; he was thinking hard.

Ander took advantage of the moment Omar was thinking. And he intervened immediately.

"I'll only pay for Guzman's group, Omar. Just around a little-" Ander was pleading. There were more ways to find out the difficulty of not being able to reach Omar's hand. But at that moment he was trying, even though his hands knew how long he wouldn't reach him.

"Stop it! Nobody needs your money." Omar swept away his hand in anger. He had not touched Ander, but the breeze he felt at the moment of that swing frightened him.

"Why? I clearly need his money." Guzman was giving Omar a headache with his questions and his openly suspicious attitude. As if he wasn't fighting Ander, Guzman was cornering him. He clearly wanted that money and didn't care who it was from. But he didn't know how humiliating Ander's money was to Omar.

"Besides ... If you don't trust this man, if you can't even get his money, why is this man in this building, Omar?" Omar felt his intelligence quieter. His thoughts, his feelings felt that everything was disappearing there. He was just silent. He was silent because he had no idea what to say right or wrong.

"Otherwise, like Nano, you are betray-"

Omar felt lightning flash in his brain. The effect on his body of equating him with someone who betrayed him was brutal. His veins ran blood like hot lava. His eyes were like a fireball.

"Don't, Guzman! Don't compare me with that."

Guzman stood up. He made a great effort not to show the shiver he felt when he looked at Omar's face in his voice.

"Then don't keep secrets to yourself." He pointed to Ander. "Who is this man? Why is he here?"

Omar knew the answer very well. He even understood very well why Ander was still with him. But he wasn't brave enough to get it out of his mouth. He had no faith. And he wouldn't tell anyone. After all those things he had gone through, he couldn't tell anyone else that he was yearning for that man. Even if that man ruined his life, he could not say it mattered. Omar again felt the humiliating feelings he had felt years ago - the humiliating gaze.

"Still, it's not your business why he is here." Omar tried to keep his voice in moderation. He tried to speak calmly and consistently. “But since you want to know…” He glanced at Ander for a moment. He just felt like he had to look at him as he said this. "He's my… childhood friend." He instantly drew his gaze over Ander. He didn't want to see the softening of his face. He didn't want to see the hopes. He didn't want to see the joy. Because Omar believed what he said just because he had to. That was right for him; he was obliged to say.

"That's why I don't want to be in debt to him or anything." Omar was listing the lies that came to his mind. He was looking at Guzman's face and speaking in a very clear tone.

Ander was unaware of the stupid smile on his face. But he felt that wave of happiness in his body. Yet at that moment there was a man they had to persuade. Ander turned to Guzman and said something to back Omar. He didn't know exactly what he was saying. What he was thinking at that moment were Omar's forced words just before.

"We are very strict about money. That's why Omar reacted suddenly."

"Still, we are in a serious situation right now." Guzman looked at Ander first, then Omar. "I think it doesn't matter who the money is right now."

Omar loosened his hand on his wound. He put his other hand to his forehead. He started to rub. It wasn't just something he did to think or to calm down, but it also had to block out the sounds in his brain. Voices saying he was a man of desperation to take Ander's money.

"Do you have any money?" Omar asked in a low voice.

Guzman felt a little relaxed and turned his gaze to Ander. He could have sworn he saw a child there at that moment. A little child given a new toy. The child there was given a great gift of hope.

"No, but I can go to Madrid and get some." Ander looked around. He was behaving in a way he wished he wasn't stupid, but it wasn't possible. Omar accepted his help. "If I leave right now, I'll get the money in the evening." He said excitedly.

Ander's excitement was above Guzman. But Guzman was excited that he would finally get some money and would not bear the hate glances of the men he was always with. Still, one side still showed anger towards Nano.

"Whatever you want to do, do it as soon as possible ..." Omar muttered. Then he left himself on the bed.

Guzman was staring at him as Ander set out to get the things he needed from his bag. He began to speak gently. That man was now his source of money, he had to be nicer.

"Shall I come with you?" This question was more a question of kindness than a question for sure. Guzman did not know this man, and there was a strange tension between him and Omar. If he had been honest with himself, he would have made it clear that he asked this question because he thought the man would not come again.

"Don't be silly." It was Omar who answered. "I can't even stand up. Are you going to leave the building to Nano after you leave?"

Guzman was stunned. He knew how right Omar was. He shook his head. He did not speak.

"No problem." Ander made a gentle touch on Guzman's shoulder. "I'll be back soon."

"Now get hell out of my room!" They were startled to hear Omar's loud voice. "I will rest."

Ander bent over Omar's bedside as Guzman prepared to leave the room. At first his voice was very loud and he was a bit far from Omar. "I'll be back soon." 

When he saw Omar close his eyes, he tried to get closer to his ear. He spoke in a low voice -like a whisper. 

"Don't think you got rid of me."

\---

  * _**16 December 1997**_



_Omar was trying to warm himself with the warmth of Ander's arms. That lonely house they met all the time was turning into a cold air house that collected snow and ice in winters. They were no longer bothered by the cold there, as the two did this almost every year._

_But Ander could clearly see that Omar was shaking. He took his right hand out of his coat pocket and held it into his hand._

_"Why didn't you take gloves today?"_

_Omar looked at Ander with a smile._

_"I forgot."_

_Ander frowned. He could have been angry with her about it, or he could have frustrated their reason for meeting here. But he just muttered to himself._

_"What am I going to do with you?"_

_Omar laughed in a shaky voice. He began to speak, trying to warm his hands with hot air from his mouth._

_"What did you want to talk about?" he suddenly asked. In fact, he had waited long enough. Ander had called him to here, so he had asked him to open what they were talking about, but he was being timid for some reason._

_Omar got used to his sullen face and jumpiness after his mother died. But that day, he was even different._

_He heard Ander clear his throat. He saw his gaze intensify and avoided him._

_"Does anyone other than me know that you are selling drugs?"_

_Things suddenly got serious. Omar's face hardened. He took his hands away from his mouth. He didn't mind the cold anymore._

_"What happened?"_

_Omar had seen much of the way Ander's lengthening matters. He believed it was something he did not to hurt Omar, but that way, he could get even more hurt._

_"Answer my question, Omar." He turned to him. He was pretty harsh. There was determined and senseless ruthlessness._

_Omar felt angry at the unknown behind his questions._

_"Do you think there is someone I can say that to other than you?"_

_Ander let out a strong breath._

_"I don't mean that." he swallowed. "Maybe someone saw you by mistake or-"_

_"Ander, I don't understand what you're saying." Omar spoke more seriously than he did. He did not understand whether he was suspicious of something or knew something._

_"Omar…" he could see him biting his lips. He pressed both lips firmly, then stopped himself by biting his lower lip with his teeth as he continued his sentence._

_Omar could not stand Ander's long silence._

_"Tell me what you mean now ?!" His voice was a little loud. But he didn't realize it. Ander knew when he looked at him strangely._

_"I think you shouldn't be selling drugs anymore."_

_Omar had had such conversations with Ander many times before. Finally, Ander had engaged his soft side towards him, and that conversation was easily closed. But it didn't look like that. There was something different things; things that Omar could not see._

_"What happened suddenly?"_

_Ander let out a strong breath again. He was quite weird, acting quite weird._

_"This is something I've told you from the beginning, Omar. Don't do that job anymore."_

_Omar swallowed what he wanted to say. He wanted to say that he was acting strangely more, he wanted to say that he didn't know the man in front of him. But he made his side of analytical talk._

_"I'll quit anyway, Ander. I just want to make some more money."_

_He spoke kindly and understandingly. Whatever this problem was, he wanted to close it as soon as possible if it was really a problem between the two._

_But Ander was not helping him at all. Moreover, it was getting more confusing._

_"Money?" he laughed. He laughed unexpectedly, as though he was making fun of him. "How much money have you received so far?"_

_"Ander, what's happening to you?" Omar felt the cold air surrounding made his body blowing winds of suspicion._

\---

  * **6 November 1991**



When Ander saw Omar's father yesterday, new questions arose in his head. Everything was moving towards greater uncertainty. Each other's families were not a big deal to him. But family problems seemed to be at the center of everything after everyone named Omar the 'mother murderer'.

He was thinking of pretending that nothing had happened to him when he went to school that day. He wouldn't ask anything about his father. He wouldn't make their families a problem.

But that day Omar did not come to school.

Ander felt like he had been tumbled into a huge void. It was not the first time he had seen Omar at school since he came to this town. And it gave him a bigger shock than he thought.

\---

  * **7 November 1991**



Omar had not come to school again.

Ander didn't know why he felt so hopeless and frustrated. He felt like he was drowning in dark clouds. Moreover, no one at school was questioning Omar's absence. Ander wished he had a nightmare.

The fact that Omar didn't even know his home had a slap on his face at the time. Maybe the idea of being friends was just a good idea for Ander. Maybe Ander was too much for Omar.

That day he could disappear into these thoughts.

\---

  * **8 November 1991**



Omar was not there again. School was empty, meaningless, and more boring than it was. This town looked dirtier and darker than it was. The students seemed more cocky and selfish. People who humiliated immigrants started to look even uglier in his eyes.

Ander knew he had more opportunities to think in those three days, but he had more time than before. Even in Omar's absence, no one tried to talk to him. The friends he spoke to when he first arrived - the people who were tried - were no longer looking in his face. Ander was not bothered by this. He didn't care to be alone either.

He just wanted to see him. He wanted to talk to him. He wanted to apologize if he was guilty. No, Ander wanted to apologize for everyone -who was there that day, who mistreated his father, who humiliated him.

He knew how to do this in a way.

He went to his mother's room that Friday evening. To the study that is separate from his father. Ander didn't do this often. Because after a certain hour at home, Ander never left his room. And when Ander should have been in his room at that hour, he was with his mother.

Sometimes their home would return to an area with rules like a school.

When his mother saw him in her room, she greeted him with surprise.

"What brought you here?" She asked, taking off her glasses. There was a faint smile on her face.

Ander approached his mother, who was sitting in the chair in front of the table. He handed the notebook to his mother, not knowing why he was hiding it behind him.

"I want to complete this." he said directly.

His mother looked at the notebook and Ander's face. She took back the glasses she had just put on the table and put them back on.

"What is this?" she asked before taking the notebook.

Ander felt a little red in his face. This was something precious to him. He was not supposed to show his mother. But if he wants to complete; had to.

"Poetry notebook."

Azucena opened her eyes wide. She clearly expressed her surprise before opening the notebook she had taken.

"Poetry notebook? What are you doing in this poetry notebook?"

Ander spoke even more timidly. He could not turn his gaze to his mother.

"My friend's notebook. He gave me to complete."

His mother smiled unkindly.

"Your friend, that friend you talked about?" Her smile got bigger. The more she remembered the influence that boy had on Ander, the happier she was.

Ander felt a strange warmth on his face. He replied like a whisper.

"Yeah."

Azucena looked with pleasure at the new look on her son's face. Then her eyes were on the notebook. Ander was already speaking while she was going through that notebook.

"Actually, he didn't tell me to complete now, but I want to complete it. I'll give him Monday. If that day he doesn't come -"

"Doesn't he come?" Azucena asked suddenly. She could see that Ander was barely speaking. Since she didn't know what was happening, she became even more curious. Moreover, Azucena did not know about Ander's friend who was the center of attention.

"He hasn't been coming to school for a few days." Ander spoke helplessly. "I don't know why, but…" instantly began to speak even more resolutely. He looked at his mother's face more confidently. "If he doesn't come on Monday, can you find his house for me?"

Azucena arched one eyebrow. She wouldn't have thought that Ander could look that serious to someone or something. Her son had changed more than she thought.

"It will be easy, but…" He pointed sarcastically to the notebook in his hand. "How do you intend to complete this?"

"That's why I showed it to you. To help me." Ander's decisive attitude just before changed rapidly. He returned to his more reserved state. His voice became weak. He spoke as if coming from deep within.

Azucena felt filled with love. She thought she had empathy for a child she didn't know and might even be good for Ander. And just like Ander, when she looked in that notebook, she saw a writing like pearls. For Azucena, she had an impressive article that a 10-year-old could not write. And poets that even Azucena has never heard of. She should have accepted. Even that was impressed she.

"I think we need to look at pretty old books." Azucena looked once more at the poems in the notebook. "Your friend looks like a very cultural person. He will force us a lot."

Ander was delighted to hear that his mother praised Omar. She was delighted that whatever she said was Omar. No matter how trivial what she was going to do, she was delighted that she would do it to Omar.

He knew back then what it meant to be happy as a child.

\---

  * **11 November 1991**



When Ander first entered the classroom, he saw Omar sitting on his chair -his desk. This actually wasn't something he did often. Because Omar would not be at school in the early hours. Ander would come to school early.

Ander was sure he arrived early today. But when he saw Omar during his course, he thought he was coming late. He even thought that his mother woke up late. Such situations would not have happened much, but maybe there was a situation where she could wake up late after that busy weekend.

Ander did not think of looking at the class. If he had just looked around for a bit, he would see that there was almost nobody. Not realizing this, he rushed to Omar's desk.

"I was very worry about you!" He asked in a breathless voice.

Until then he was unaware that Omar was contemplative. It frightened him when he approached him and spoke loudly involuntarily.

"Sorry, I reacted a little too much-" he gave up. He hadn't reacted much. Never before has he had seen Omar at school for so long. It was the first time he had known him that he hadn't seen him in this long. Five days. Just five days. "No! I didn't react too much! I was curious about you, do you know?"

He could say that five days was five centuries. But he still thought it was just a friendly feeling. Close friends could feel that way to themselves. But when he think about it ... There were times when his mother and father could not stand seeing each other. Moreover, their relationship must have been more than the two friends loved each other. Ander was beginning to feel that some things he knew were wrong.

"Sorry." Omar murmured timidly. He was careful not to come into contact with Ander, or even look at him. Ander didn't like this at all. With his bag on his back, he sat in the chair of the empty bench in front of Omar.

Luckily nobody was around.

"Why did not you come?" Ander was speaking oddly harsh. Besides, he had a strange expression on his face, like that of angry people.

"I had reasons for myself." Omar replied, lowering the voice even more.

"What does it mean?"

Omar let out a breath boredly. He looked up to look into Ander's face.

"What will you do if you learn?" he said sternly.

Ander could see that Omar was acting distant. He didn't like that either.

"Is there anyone you could tell if you didn't tell me?" he gave the same strong reaction. At that moment they seemed to challenge each other.

But Omar's face softened after a short while. He had an easygoing side to accept anything. He tilted his head again, his gaze back on his desk.

"If I tell you, you will walk away from me." His voice was very delicate and fragile.

Ander was angry that he thought so for himself. He raised his voice a little more.

"I would never do such a thing!"

Omar lifted his gaze from his bench. He looked straight at Ander, without any change in his face.

"When those kids took money from me, you got angry with me and turned away from me." 

Ander was stunned. He pulled himself back a little while sitting. He was still looking nervously. Moreover, a very strange feeling thought that Omar was doing an injustice to Ander. He did not trust him, he was acting unfairly by not trusting him.

"It was different! I didn't want you to condone people who torment you."

"Maybe it's not as different as you think."

Ander was tired of this riddle, these cryptic allusions. He spoke without reflecting this boredom too much on his face, taking care not to hear his voice harsh and rude.

"I wouldn't know without hearing, right?"

Omar did not restrain himself and smiled. He didn't know if he was going to say anything to him. In fact, he was too impromptu and haphazard towards him. He didn't think much about the rest.

"What did you think when you saw my dad?" he asked directly. He already knew that there was no point in running away. He could not escape from it.

"Your father?" he murmured in surprise.

"Yeah, what did you think the first time you saw him?" he asked persistently. He had seen the uneasiness in Ander's face. But he wanted him to be honest with himself. He wanted him not to hesitate.

"I didn't know he was your father… Besides…" he couldn't continue. Omar quickly entered his lecture.

"Now you know. What did you think the first time you saw him?"

Omar insisted on not saying "I wish" in the future. He was insistently asking to be wholeheartedly honest with him. He saw that he was getting smaller and smaller in front of him. He could see a shyness on his face just like his own. He wanted to be completely honest with him, no matter how much that led him to feel regret. Just as he wanted him to be honest with himself.

"I thought he was a sick man." Ander's gaze was on the ground. He did not know why he was acting so honestly, whereas his mother remembers sometimes saying that people can lie so that they do not offend each other. Still ... That too could be some kind of a lie.

Omar did not answer. There was a smile on his face. He was fascinated not by his thoughts of his father, but by his honesty with himself. The expression on his face could also be seen clearly.

But Omar's lack of reply worried Ander. He suddenly turned his gaze to Omar. At the same time he started speaking rapidly.

"Sorry! I know it bothered you that I thought that about your father. But! I swear it was just a momentary thing. A momentary thought! And now I regret thinking that. I really am!"

Ander seemed to be able to see Omar more clearly when he paused. How strange ... He was smiling.

"I am convinced." she said kindly. He let out a deep breath. "Also don't keep apologizing for your own opinion, it's not necessary."

"But—" Ander stepped forward to counter him, but could not continue.

Instead, Omar continued to speak.

"Still wondering why I didn't come?"

Ander shook his head helplessly.

After that, Omar opened up to him very comfortably. He whispered of his fears. He explained that his father was congenitally mentally disabled, that his mother was related to his father and that the two families agreed to make this marriage, and that Omar was the child of those two. It was not the first time that Ander heard of two relatives getting married. The two cousins in his family were married to each other. He remembered having had such a conversation with his father before. As absurd as it is for two men, two women to fall in love, it was absurd for two relatives to marry. Two close relatives. So Ander had no memory of those two cousins. And he did not tell Omar about this attitude of his father. He did not even open his mouth on this subject.

Omar later said that his father did not actually leave their house, but after Omar's mother died, he constantly went out looking for her. His father still could not comprehend her death.

Omar seemed hurt when he talked about it. Ander did not have to make a great effort to make sense of this. He could see quite clearly.

He said that one of the reasons he didn't come to school was because he wanted to stand next to his father, and the other was his fear.

Ander saw that the way people treated him was scary enough. So he thought it was normal. But Omar said something else he didn't expect.

He said he feared that Ander's attitude towards him would also change.

The first moment he heard this, he thought, just like before, that Omar was doing him unfairly. Ander wasn't like that person. Ander would not give up on Omar so easily. Why wouldn't he give up? Was he thinking that because he was friends with him? Ander thought it was because of pure like. Pure like -love.

Omar said he was comfortable now at the last minute. He said he was breathing a sigh of relief anymore that he had no secrets against him.

And he said that if he could still admit himself, he wanted to continue to be friends with him - with his flaws.

Ander never thought the family was a fault. He didn't think Omar had flaws. He had decided from the first moment he saw him that he would accept him in any way.

It could be pure like or childish like -love. It was not a big deal.

He would accept him anyway. He knew he would accept him.

So ... Why ... _did you leave him?_

Omar became more and more quiet when he saw several students entering the classroom. Actually, he didn't have much left to say, but he suddenly closed his mouth and buried his face in his bench. Ander first saw that the students began to come after the voices he heard after his movements.

He stood up from the chair. The main owner of that desk would soon come, and Ander did not want to get into another ordinary class fight.

With his standing up, Omar turned his head to him. In fact, he was most aware of it; He didn't want to take his eyes off this little guy.

Ander reacted in an unexpected way, as if suddenly remembering something. He put his bag on the ground. He opened his zipper of bag and took out a notebook. It was a notebook of poems by different poets, written by Omar in his own handwriting.

Ander quickly put the notebook on Omar's desk. He spoke a little as his face grew pink.

"I completed."

Omar looked at him in awe. Ander was only looking at the notebook he had extended.

"Really?" when he asked, he was finally able to pay attention to the notebook. He had opened the book from the last pages, which he normally had to look at from the beginning. The notebook was complete. "You're amazing." he said with a laugh.

"Don't be silly, the text looks like scribble next to yours."

Omar laughed a little louder.

"No I didn't mean it." closed the book. He turned his gaze to Ander. He spoke with a big smile. "I've been looking for poems in this notebook since I was 7 years old. But I was only able to fill it halfway through."

"What? Since the age of 7?" Ander was unaware that he was reacting loudly. Until Omar warns.

"You can have a more controlled reaction." he said with a laugh.

"And you're telling me you're amazing. Are you kidding me? You're actually amazing one."

Unlike him, Ander didn't even know what he liked. Certainly it wasn't sports. Or art. What did he like then?

"If it wasn't for my mother, I wouldn't have found any of these poems." he admitted to himself.

But Omar didn't care.

"Well, still I think you're amazing." he continued more seriously. "You have amazing determination."

Hearing this, his ears screamed with joy. Her cheeks were reddened. He was sure his hands were sweating slightly. He had received such compliments before. He'd heard compliments like these before. He had heard it differently from others. But this was different. Above all he said it. Omar. Apart from all the compliments he received until that day, it had a completely different feeling. There was a feeling that weaved through his heart.

Ander said nothing until he heard the lesson bell. And when they heard the lesson bell, Ander said he had to go to his desk and said goodbye to him. Of course, the action he made when he returned for the bag he had forgotten on the floor made Omar laugh more than he thought.

He thought the same thing he thought the first time he saw him. How beautiful...

An ordinary sense of friendship. It certainly wasn't. Ander wanted to find the name of this feeling.

\---

  * _**19 December 1997**_



_Omar was angrily trying to digest his experiences._

_He was waiting at the house - their meeting place - where he told Ander to come. He was impatient and moving constantly, or he knew that his thoughts would hit the face of the humiliation he was experiencing. He knew it would make himself cry. But he should have remained angry, angry to hold him accountable - the man he fell in love with._

_But it was not possible._

_When he saw his face, he wanted to cry, screaming in anger. As soon as he saw him passing through the first door, he wanted to take his revenge on him. As a matter of fact, he tried to do it._

_As he approached Ander in front of him, both hands quickly hit his torso. It was one of those moments when he instantly realized that he was much weaker than him. He was much weaker than him in every way._

_"How can you do that? How?!"_

_Omar was hitting his torso. But Ander did not react at all. This man did not look like the man he fell in love with. Although his emotions formed a lump in his throat, he did not want to cry. He wanted to spew hatred at him._

_"Am I so worthless to you? Am I so...? What happened to you that suddenly? Why...? Why did you do this to me?" He pushed him hard. This had Ander taken a few steps away from him._

_Omar shouted._

_"Answer me! You dick-sucker!"_

_Omar saw that Ander was looking down. He saw that there was no movement in his face. He saw that no mimicry was moving. When was the last time he saw him so emotionless? Still, this was different. He felt like he had lost him._

_And at that moment his hand was raised involuntarily. His hand was raised quickly with a cold wind. Ander looked at the lift of that hand but did not look where that hand was standing. It was as if he wouldn't mind if he swung that hand at his face at that moment._

_Omar's intention was like that. To lower his hand to his face as soon as he raises it. But this was not possible. To his face, to him; he could not knowingly, willingly harm._

_"Fuck!"_

_He pulled his hand back to himself with a fist in the air. He turned and took a few steps to push himself further away from him._

_He continued to shout when he turned to look at his face again._

_"I was abusing you! I'm the fucker tempting you! And you are the insolent scum standing in front of me, even though you complained about me to the police!"_

_He laughed to himself. His facial muscles moved from the nerve a little._

_"They didn't even question me properly. It is quite normal for an Arab to be able to harass a person! They didn't even want to let me go. But they had to... because you and I were the same age. The fucking same age! If! If I was a few years older than you, they would do everything they could to make me rot in prison."_

_Ander's silence and expression made him even more angry. He took a few steps towards him. He gripped both sides of his coat. He shook him back and forth._

_"Why did you do this to me? Why...?"_

_Then he realized. He could actually see but not think. His brain wanted to spew the anger of the humiliation he was still experiencing._

_He realized. He realized that he had never resisted. He realized that no matter what he said to him or whatever he did, he had no response._

_He realized. He realized that he accepted the anger that would come from him._

_At that moment, Omar's hands, gripping Ander's coat, softened. Those hands were still holding the coat, but they were not rough and rough. It was a gentler, softer grip._

_He approached his face. At first, he wanted to see if Ander made eye contact with him. But it was not even clear where Ander's gaze was seeing._

_That's when Omar realized. The soul of the man he fell in love with seemed to disappear._

_He left himself to the stupid lover boy. He wanted to save him rather than bring his anger out against him. Omar's gaze changed. His thoughts have changed._

_He pulled him from both sides of Ander's coat. This brutal move at first turned into a very gentle gesture so that he wouldn't hurt anymore. As Omar closed the distance between their faces, he realized that Ander's face had changed. At that moment, he realized something else. How vulnerable he is._

_Omar's dry cracked lips looked like they melted between Ander's soft lips._

_Ander's soft delicate lips; Omar imprisoned all his anger there. But it wasn't that easy for Ander. He withdrew himself. He was breathing in and out in a strange way. His eyes were closed. Omar's eyes were already wide open when he realized the warmth on his lips was moving away. At that moment he saw how tightly Ander's eyes were closed. He was afraid._

_"Ander..." he was talking to his lips. "Your father did it, right...?"_

_He heard Ander's breathing rapidly. But he could not answer. Instead, he bowed his head a little. This movement brought their diverging faces closer again._

_"Ander... Believe me I don't care anything." he spoke pleadingly, letting his tearful voice be heard. "I don't care about anything but you."_

_"Omar ..." The first thing he heard from his mouth was his name. This led to a jolt in the confusion of emotion within him._

_Ander's voice was also heard tearful. But there were different things about him. A different need to cry, a different pain, a different ... fear._

_Omar seemed hypnotized. In fact, his love had hypnotized him years ago. He seemed hypnotized to wait for Ander to say something._

_"I can not do..."_

_When Ander finally spoke, the spell broke down._

_The two sides of the coat that Omar held between his loose hands moved away from him. Ander's breath, warmth, face, mouth, lips moved away from him. The things that controlled all the emotions in him moved away from him._

_He pushed Omar away from himself. This made him feel pushed off a cliff, but worse hadn't happened yet._

_Ander hurried away from there without even looking back -him. He hadn't let him look into his eyes for the last time._

_He left a wreckage behind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previews from 1997...
> 
> Everyone (Rebe, Samu, Marina) mentioned in this chapter will appear in the following chapters.
> 
> Thank you for reading !!  
> Feel free to comment :)


	13. Monstrous Lie and White Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the YEARS and DAYS!

  * **26 October 2004**



When Ander came back to the building, he tried to ignore the people around him. In fact, those people were not around him, but when Ander looked at around, he felt under siege.

His goal was to find Guzman directly and empty some of the money in his bag. He wanted to do it as soon as possible and get rid of that burden -that money.

He had brought in about twice the money Guzman told him. Both for his group and for Omar's group. He didn't know where he got that audacity. He did not know why this help thought was passing through his head. But when it comes to Omar ... when he was ... He wanted to help Omar even if it was just about money.

He did not think to do such a thing and humiliate Omar. He was not someone to insult anyone about money. He would like to say this to the reason of his condition years ago. If only he hadn't told him demeaning words about money. If only he had been a little more courageous. If only things were different.

Ander wanted to live where people would not be humiliated. With him in a place where no one is humiliated. The two of them could have been happy. Everything could be different.

\---

He found Guzman in the dining area of that building. This was quite normal as he was there in the evening. However, he had never felt such a tense environment in this area before. Maybe it was the same on the day of delivery, no, the environment on the day of delivery was not so uneasy.

The sound of forks and knives did not even seem to be heard. There were glances that could kill any sound. Frightening looks, restless and hateful people.

When Guzman realized that Ander was there, he quickly got up. It was not the right place to talk - to get the money. He tried to express this with gestures, but Ander did not understand exactly what to do. When Guzman hurried past him and moved up the stairs, he realized that he had to follow him.

\---

"Did you bring it?"

Ander saw Guzman rubbing his two hands together. He also had a strange expression on his face. He did not know whether he was doing this gesture because of the cold or because he knew he was going to get the money. But Guzman looked happy at that moment. At least he would get rid of the disorder in his group. Of course he would be happy.

"Yes but..."

Guzman's gaze broke down. When he heard the word 'but', his actions changed suddenly. He put his hands, which he had just rubbed against each other, in his pockets. And he looked at Ander with a very serious expression.

"But what?"

Ander looked around again and again. He was seriously afraid that someone would hear what they were going to talk about. He could be even more afraid of Guzman. In fact, Guzman didn't seem very afraid at that time. Ander would later find out. Guzman was an impulsive man.

"I brought about twice the money you wanted."

Guzman's eyes instantly widened. His reactions became more hectic.

"Why? Why did you do such a thing? If you brought as much as I wanted, it would be enough."

Ander replied quickly. He made sure that his voice was controlled.

"I know but ... I also want to pay on the money Omar will give his group."

Guzman took a few steps back. He was silent. Ander continued to speak.

"Look, I'll give you the money and you'll give it to them. That's it."

Guzman was straight against it. He saw that Omar didn't like the idea, and if he did, the results might not have been great.

"No! I can't. Omar doesn't want to owe you money."

Ander raised his voice carelessly. He didn't think his patience would give up so easily.

"I'm not giving this as debt!" suddenly he saw fear in Guzman's gaze. He instantly looked menacingly at Ander. From here he realized that he had to lower his voice. "I know you need this money. So I won't see it as a debt."

Guzman was taking his gaze across Ander's face and a bag in his hand. It was like his own inner struggle. Nobody knew how much he needed the money in that bag - all that money.

And he suffered his own internal defeat. He quickly took the bag from Ander's hand. He unzipped his jacket, tightened the bag firmly somewhere on his chest, and closed the zipper again.

At that moment he heard Ander mutter.

"I'm thankful to you."

A loathsome expression appeared on Guzman's face. This man in front of him didn't need to feel thankful. _I'm the one to say that ..._

"Man, I don't really understand you."

Something/someone told him that the boy was very naive. A naivety that people see as 'stupidness'. Just like Omar.

"Why?" Ander, though involuntarily looking serious, had a face that could giggle at any moment.

"You're paying such a high sum to a man you don't know ...?" he was silent. He had to think of the words he would bring in the continuation.

Ander did not seem to pay much attention to what he said. The importance of money was lost to him long ago.

"So?"

Guzman thought he was startled by the thoughts running through his mind. But he could. Anyone could do such things. People in his situation could do such things.

"If I don't give this money to Omar's group, if I keep it all to myself ... What can you do?"

Ander's gaze and thoughts did not change. He had already thought about this on the way. But he decided to himself that it didn't matter anymore. Money had not helped him at all until now. Maybe at that moment he could really help him - both Ander and Omar. Ander was thinking about this and came there with that money.

"I do nothing." Guzman felt startled by such negligence. "But ... I would have seen you betrayed Omar. That would change your future life. If I were you, I wouldn't betray him."

 _I wouldn't betray him._ What an ironic sentence. _I betrayed him the worst._

"What about your money? What's that-"

"I don't even give a fuck about money." he said softly. He had a dull and gentle expression to ignore the insult coming from his mouth.

Guzman understood better after his father's company went bankrupt that people worshiped money. He saw very well what people could and would not do for money. It didn't matter how much more or less money they had. Money was more important than anything. But it didn't seem to be for this guy. Or there was something more important to him than money.

Guzman didn't understand why he thought so. But he no longer thought they were two ordinary friends - childhood friends.

\---

Ander was finally in Omar's room. He had to reach his room for a sigh of relief. And he was there.

He chose to open the door gently because he thought he could sleep. However, Omar was sitting in the only chair in front of his table.

When Ander saw him, he reacted suddenly.

Omar chuckled. It was not what he wanted to do, what he wanted to do at that moment. But his face suddenly reacted. The accumulation of emotion in him suddenly reacted.

"If you think you will have to forgive yourself in this way, let me tell you in the beginning ..." The smile on his face disappeared with an anger. "... I'm not for sale."

A facial expression similar to his had appeared on the man before him. A cold expression, an angry expression; It appeared on the face of his childhood friend. His childhood love.

"I would never think of such a thing. Never."

Ander knew he was contradicting what he said. He must have been forgotten why he left him.

"Then tell me…" Omar could not keep his voice calm as he wanted. It was overwhelmingly tired of accumulating things that he hadn't spoken to for so long. If he could face him back then, he wouldn't have to accumulate that much. "Why did you betray me?"

He stirred a deep pain in asking this question. As if he wasn't feeling enough of that deep pain, he had exposed it even more.

"Or did I say it wrong?" Omar contained an expression contrary to the pain in him. An arrogant expression. Maybe Ander could hurt too. So they would be equated with it. "Why did you leave me? They both arrive at the same result for me, but you can answer one."

He was on the warpath. The acceleration of his breathing was clearly heard from the outside.

Although Ander was afraid of this situation - these questions - he dared to open his mouth, even though he knew that he had no answer.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't know why he could let go of this words from his tongue, although he knew long ago that an apology would not be enough.

"That's all you do again! Take refuge in the forgiveness of my fuck!"

And Ander could see that it made him even more angry. While not wanting to hurt him, he accapted the fact that he was the one who hurt the most.

"Omar ... let's do this later, you're hurting yourself." Ander put his hands towards him. Between them was the table that occupied most of the room, and Ander held out a hand behind him. He just wanted to extend it, not so that it could reach Omar. He didn't know how to stop him.

"Because of you ..." Omar's voice was muted. Everything was flowing into him, along with other things to say. Anything that could show him sadness, like tears, was flowing into him. "I'm hurting because of you ..."

Ander had accepted this years ago. It all happened because of him.. Omar could blame him over and over again. He could take his anger out of Ander. But as a result, Omar should not have been harmed. But everything became just the opposite. Ander couldn't protect Omar. Ander hurt Omar. And he didn't get any results he wanted.

"I know." 

Omar reacted as if he didn't expect to hear this. He opened his eyes wide, relaxed his hand on the table, which he had just made into a punch. He was able to look into Ander's face. 

Ander pulled back his hands. He knew they could no longer reach Omar. He looked for something that could empower himself. He dropped his body to his left, leaned against the wall.

"If I could stand behind what I wanted a little more. None of that would have happened."

Omar continued to shake his loosened hand again. No matter what position he sat in the chair, his stomach ache did not pass. Just like that ache in his chest.

Ander turned his eyes to Omar. He could feel his eyes fogging, but he knew that Omar would not see. There was a plea in his gaze. A silent cry. But he thought that Omar was not affected. He thought he was still looking at him with the same anger.

"If I wasn't a coward. None of this would have happened. I wouldn't have left you alone."

"But you left." he said sternly. He wanted him to be hurt. He wanted him to be hurt, just like himself. He wanted him to feel the same desperation and even more. He wanted to see his heart divided into a thousand pieces before his eyes. But… But, after all... he still thought he didn't deserve to suffer. His stupid childhood, his stupid love spirit would always remain hidden in him. Those sides would always come to light for this man in front of him.

"I came back." Ander moved a little from the wall he was leaning against. "Doesn't that matter?"

"Does matter…" Omar murmured. "You were more matter than anyone else ... you ruined everything ..."

Ander couldn't say anything. He continued to blame himself, to insult him, and to pour curses. He was the reason why everything went so wrong. He was selfish, cowardly, and useless. He learned all of this. To his body, to his soul; taught this pain. And alleviating his own suffering was never an aim for him. Self-healing has never been what he thought he deserved. But when he left Omar, when he left his dark-haired boy, he destroyed his whole world. That's why he came back. To compensate. To pay for it. To compensate for the pain he inflicted on him.

When there was a deadly silence in the environment, the loud noise of Omar's chair was heard. Omar stood up, supported by both the chair and the table.

"I'm going to sleep. I'll be sick if I keep talking to you a little longer."

Ander grinned at this. A bitter smile. His face might have changed, but the voices in him still had not. Voices saying that he was the culprit, voices saying that Omar would never forgive him, voices saying that he did not deserve to be forgiven.

When Omar took a few steps forward from the table, he stumbled. The pain that entered the place where the wound was, made him too weak to stand. And at that moment the pain in his stomach was strong enough to bring him to his knees. Still, he was able to draw power from the closest thing, the table. He somehow managed to stand.

Ander could only watch him. His reflexively outstretched hands met with angry glances reflexively directed at him. It was easy for him to hesitate the moment he saw that gaze. The fact that he could not help him was one of his greatest despair.

"It seems that you are slowly realizing that you should not touch me." Although he could hardly speak, his voice spoke well.

"I just want the wound not to open." Ander's voice was more difficult to hear than Omar's.

"It's an irony…" he had taken a few steps toward his mattress. Small room was a serious disadvantage. Whether he wanted to or not, he had moved towards Ander. His mattress was leaning against the same wall he had just leaned against. He was observing Ander as he slowly put down his bed against the wall. He was sure he saw some sort of 'pain' expression on his face. Hurt expression or ... Omar just thought it was his own delusion. It was the fault of his inner child, that stupid lover. Maybe Ander was pitying about him, and Omar got it wrong. It definitely had to be. It was not the facial expression of a suffering person, but the facial expression of a person who had pity on the man opposite. Either way, it was an unbearable sight for him.

"... What will you get after you can't touch me?"

Ander felt like he was awakening from a sleep. Until then, he had not thought of hearing such a question.

When Omar saw Ander's empty stare, he realized that he wouldn't get an answer, but he repeated his question.

"What does it matter if I forgive you or not after you can't-"

"I can fix it!" Ander thoughtlessly interrupted Omar's words. "After all ..." but he didn't know what to say anymore.

Omar was still standing and staring at Ander. He couldn't wait to sit on his bed and comfort his aching wound.

"What is it, after all?" When he realized that Ander could not continue his sentence, he asked.

"You were in love with me, right?"

The question that scared Omar was asked. Although it was easy for him to accept this situation - the state of love - it was different that he was asked by his mouth. It was very different.

This question was posed by the only person who could shatter his body - that is allowed. He is the only person who can do whatever he wants to Omar's body.If he hadn't given this permission years ago to someone else. Everything could have been different. Omar did not disgust touching people, he did not hate. Because of him, his body was suffered by others. It was all his fault. Ander's fault.

Ander continued to speak resolutely and calmly. He didn't think much about the words coming out of his mouth. If he did, he would think he was insolent.

"I already know that I can't fix what you've- we've been through. Because I couldn't fix anything in my old life I had. If I could, I'd fix what I did to you at first. But I'm determined for the future, since I couldn't do it. I can fix you and the future. I can fix."

Omar thought he was stupid because he needed to hear these words. He thought he was stupid because he felt the warmth surrounding him when he heard these words. For still his heart is willing enough to scream his name; he thought he was stupid. If he had been honest with himself from the beginning, he would understand how much he needed to even see his face.

And therefore he could not oppose what Ander said. Or he couldn't answer at all. Despite all those dirty memories, Ander's words seemed very clean to him. Like a lucid future.

He finally sat down on his bed when that shocked look passed over his face. Ander was still standing watching him. In fact, there were still many words he wanted to say in his mind. Like words to immediately leave that ridiculous building, that shitty town and start a new life together ... But even if he said these, he would not have reached him. It was not the moment he reached him. It was just enough for them to be together at that moment. It would be enough for them to stay in the same room.

Time is medicine. Over time, everything can fix.

"Where will you sleep?"

Omar asked in a low voice. It was hard to live with that stupid child inside that still worried about him. That child wanted him to think about his well-being every time.

"Huh…" Ander expressed his astonishment with a breath of breath. When he saw Omar's both arms covering his face, the question he asked caught his attention even more. He liked it.

"I'll wait here like yesterday. Just in any case ..."

 _Just in any case ..._ The voices inside Omar started yelling at him at that moment.

A little boy and a young man ...

A little boy who trusts him and a young man injured by him ...

_He was with you all night yesterday. He didn't attack you when you were most vulnerable. How can you still not trust him?_

_No! He still waiting for a suitable moment. Again, he will humiliate you in everyone's eyes. He will take everything you have and leave you!_

_No ... If you don't have him, you have nothing. Did you forget, Omar? How you loved him ..._

"Find yourself a proper mattress and go to your room." Omar was able to speak when his thoughts were quiet a bit.

"I'd rather stay here." Ander had spoken when he settled into the only chair in the room, standing in front of the table.

The voices increased again, echoing in his mind as Omar watched him.

_You fucking idiot! He will betray you again ..._

_No! He will fix his mistakes ..._

_Idiot! How will he fix it?_

_He can. He can fix._

"I should never have let you into this building." It was all he could say to the voices echoing in his brain. It was not a sentence he said to Ander. It was a kind of regretful sentence he told himself.

"You still have a chance to kick me off." Ander said it carelessly. He wasn't sure he wouldn't. Even if he did, he would come again. He would come again somehow. He would come again if the years passed. Although he knew that the Omar, whom he knew, had changed completely, it did not matter, although he knew that he would never see Omar again. As long as Ander existed, the little boy inside Omar would also exist. And that little boy would return to Ander the same way. He would beg him. He would beg him not to let him go again.

"I can not do." 

Ander hadn't heard of it. However, it was clearly out of Omar's mouth. Was it the speech of the little boy inside him, he didn't know. But it was Omar who spoke those words.

I can not do... I can not do it to you ...

\---

  * _**19 December 1997**_



_Omar had the courage to appear at the door of Ander's house. Omar was on his doorstep when the sun went down and the weather got colder and the effect of the asphalt road icing was even more evident._

_The cold in the air did not cool the fire inside Omar. The cold in the air did not freeze Omar's anger. The cold in the air didn't make Omar's love for Ander cold. The cold in the air did not make him as cold as Ander._

_He needed him. He needed to see him. He needed to talk to him and find his own solutions, as always. He needed to be warm in that cold. He needed his arms. He needed his warmth._

_But there were still things that his brain couldn't detect. In front of that door, he would not be given any solution. For some reason he felt that he had lost him. He felt like nothing would give him back Ander._

_I can not do..._

_Why hadn't Omar followed after Ander said this? Why hadn't he followed him? Why did he let him go?_

_He felt very guilty. He shouldn't have been angry with him. He shouldn't have said those words and shouted at him. They wouldn't solve their problems like that. But Omar hadn't experienced that humiliation for a long time. Maybe a few months, maybe a few years. People had stopped seeing him as a "monster". And that identity would appear after this event. They would say he was gay and curse more. Omar hated this feeling of defeat, he was angry with this feeling. But he could not be angry with Ander._

_Ander would never make him a mockery. Ander would never turn his back on him. Ander wouldn't say anything bad about him to anyone, so he couldn't tell the police anything._

_The anger in Omar could never have happened to Ander. But maybe. But maybe he was angry with his cowardice._

_And before his hands were cold more, he knocked on the door. In fact, he could hit the window in Ander's room as usual. This was a message for them. Omar would come to the side of Ander's room, if the light was on he would hit the glass, if the light was off he would leave notes under the flowerpots in front of the window. In pots where he grows white tulips. But that day Omar had tried it once, and as a result, neither could he get an answer from him nor his anger subsided. Moreover, a huge void had begun to open in his heart._

_After a while, Omar saw the door open rapidly. Everything developed so quickly that he had forgotten why he was standing in front of that door. Ander quickly observed his surroundings, not allowing Omar to say anything, pulling him inside._

_Omar was very surprised that he did not even imagine that he could come in. Suddenly Ander's hand grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. He knew that Ander didn't like being praised for his wrists or muscle strength, but after tennis his body had never been the same._

_"Why did you come here?" Ander asked heatedly. Until then, Omar could have forgotten that he was right in front of him, inside his house._

_"You have to give me a explanation." Omar said while trying to keep his calm._

_He could hear the deep sighs of the man opposite him. He could see his hands going and damaging his curly hair all the time. Omar didn't want to see this version of him. He stretched his hand towards his arm. This was actually an involuntary move for him. How could he speak without calming him after seeing him like this? Even if he talked, he might not be able to reach him. He might not have heard Omar's words, or Ander might have used the wrong words. But Omar - who doesn't blame Ander on anything - didn't believe he would pick the wrong words. And he forgot quickly. He had forgotten that the man who complained him was Ander. He forgot that Ander was the man who told him to the police. Omar wanted to keep close his eyes to these truths. He didn't want to see these truths._

_"Ander ..." He slowly grabbed his arm and made his face turn towards him. "Please ... I know your father is the problem."_

_He saw Ander swallow. His throat moved in such a way that Ander had swallowed everything that had accumulated inside him. As if everything that accumulated inside him poured into himself again._

_"Everything is not that easy ..." he finally said as soon as he could make eye contact with Omar._

_Omar had a hard time perceiving what he was saying as he embraced the happiness of hearing his voice. But he could hear him muttering to himself. It is not that easy..._

_"What's not easy, Ander?" Omar wanted him to look in his face. He was constantly trying to get to his face, but it was useless. His face was not looking at Omar in any way. Why didn't he let him see his face clearly?_

_Omar measured what he wanted to say. He thought. He thought that whatever he told him he could make it all right. Although he didn't know what was wrong, he wanted to fix everything._

_"I do not care!" Omar said aloud, as if he was shouting. He continued to speak more slowly and calmly when he felt Ander's arms fleeing from him, his arms covering his face, pause a little. When he felt that he could look into his eyes, even for a few seconds, he continued talking. "I don't care about anything. I don't care if you complained about me. I don't care if people think I'm gay, I don't care if they know. I don't care anymore ..." He swallowed at that moment, when he almost felt he was going to cry. He didn't know if it was as much as Ander swallowed, but he swallowed the ready-to-flow tears. "Let's go..."_

_"What?" Ander murmured. Omar could see his eyes widen. He could see that his movements were slowing down._

_He couldn't believe that he was getting a smile on his face at that moment, but… He was with him after all. Next to Ander. Even that was the only reason that could make him feel happy. But the smile on his face was very offended, the kind that could vanish at any moment._

_"Get outta here." Omar was holding tightly to Ander's relaxed arms. He made him look like himself, and Omar approached him. "Are we not going one day anyway?" Despair was heard in his voice. Despair flowed from his feelings. "Let's go right now, Ander."_

_"What are you saying?" Trying to hide his face again, Ander wanted to pull his arms towards him. But he didn't use any force. If he really wanted to free those arms from Omar, he could._

_"I say let's go!" Omar remained determined and reflected this in his voice to show the curly haired boy opposite. "And why are we still here?" He wited. He wanted to watch Ander's gaze. He wanted to see what he was thinking. "Why are you still being a slave to your father?"_

_"Omar ..." This time it was Ander, whose crying voice was heard. And he wasn't afraid of eye contact. His direct gaze was in Omar's eyes. "I can't ... Why don't you understand?"_

_Omar did not understand. What did 'I can't' mean? What did he mean? Why can't he?_

_"Why is that?" Omar asked, trying to smile. He was still holding Ander's arms. He was holding his arms tightly, with a force not to be expected of him. "Why can't you?"_

_Ander just looked at him. He bowed his head, bowed enough to beg him for understanding. Although Omar did not understand, he could beg him._

_"I can not do..."_

_That's when Omar felt the fear over Ander. He was angry. The fear of the young man before him was his anger. His voice was louder. He began to hold his arms tighter. Ander felt the strength in his arms had lost completely._

_"Why ?! Why can't you do?" Omar could feel his cheeks getting wet. He even felt a little bit of pain in his eyes. But he didn't mind. "What happened to you? Why are you acting like this?"_

_Ander was looking away. His arms were becoming more and more weak, and Omar felt as if he was holding two empty objects in his hands. It was as if they was melting before his eyes._

_"I can't ..." Ander muttered. Was it some kind of callousness or sentimentality in his voice, Omar could not understand. There was a veil of anger blocking Omar's field of vision and a dark veil that Ander drew to his emotions. Omar's field of vision was blocked._

_"Why?" Omar asked again. He wouldn't get tired of asking that. He wouldn't get tired until he learned or heard the answer. Or he wouldn't get tired of asking until the answer really destroyed him._

_"Because ..." his voice was low. Quite hoarse. Omar got closer to him. Both to hear your voice and to see his face. But suddenly neither was needed._

_Ander's eyes stared deeply into Omar's eyes. His voice was heard quite loudly and clearly._

_"I am going already." He stoped. Omar did not know who this instantly changed man was. "I'm going with my father."_

_Was it possible for the world to collapse suddenly, Omar did not know. But at that moment he felt it. That the whole world was shaken and instantly collapsed upon him._

_He didn't know who this determined man was. His Ander was not this man. The boy he fell in love with could not be the person in front of him._

_"What do you mean?" he asked helplessly. He didn't know what to say. His hands were now moving away from his arms._

_And Ander's cold-blooded demeanor grew more and more. Cold enough to deal with the cold outside._

_"It means, I'm not here anymore. It means I'm going."_

_Omar felt like someone had stuck hundreds of nails into his back. Omar felt like someone had hit his head with several glass bottles at the same time. Omar felt the man holding his heart in his hands squeeze his heart._

_His hands were completely removed from Ander, his body away from him. His eyes didn't want to see his determined face, his ears didn't want to hear those words. Omar wanted to disappear at that moment._

_"Ander ..." Omar called out. He called out as if he was looking for the boy he was in love with somewhere. Indeed, she absolutely did not know the other person. He refused. He has repeatedly denied within himself the fact that he was Ander. "Why ... did you ... make ... a ... decision ... like that?"_

_Omar couldn't even hear his voice himself. He couldn't be sure what he said. He could not be sure of what was on his mind. It was too early to decide on anything._

_"With you or my father. It wouldn't matter who I went with." Omar felt that voice cool him down. He felt the cold outside penetrate into him. "I chose to go with my father ... There is no reason."_

_Omar shouted suddenly. A strange mixture of emotions was heard in his voice._

_"Do not lie to me! Don't!" He knew it was all wrong. He knew that the camouflage on Ander's face was wrong. He could see how fragile that camouflage was. He knew that Ander wasn't this callous man, he could see ... he wanted to see. "We both know it's not your decision!"_

_"What does that matter ...?" Ander muttered. He didn't even know whether he said it or not. His lips might have betrayed him._

_"What do you mean, what does it matter?" Omar rushed back to his hope. He ran to the light he saw in the dark. He made another move to grab Ander's arms. And he took hold of his hands. Omar's cold hands were melting in Ander's warm hands. "If you want to be with me, we'll go together."_

_Ander did not speak. Omar let the memories come to his mind for a few seconds and took strength from them and started talking again._

_"We ... Didn't we promise each other?" He slowly approached his face. He approached Ander's facial gestures, not playing like morning. "Didn't we promise we'll go from here together? What happened suddenly?" His voice became more and more quiet. "What happened to you?"_

_Ander pulled back his hands. He opened the distance between them, opened, opened and moved away from Omar. He reached out to the doorknob to open the door to his house._

_"I realized, Omar." he could not understand. He could see the man's mouth moving, and he could hear voices coming from it, but he could not understand. His ears didn't want to hear those sounds either. His brain didn't want to perceive those words. "We are no longer children. And you cannot give me the life I want."_

_Omar chuckled. He didn't know how to show his disappointment. Although one side wanted to cry loudly to these people, another part knew that what they heard was just nonsense._

_"Are you kidding me?" he wished it was so. He wished it was just a cold joke. He wished that the moment was just a dream. "If you think this is fun… I'm not having fun." his voice dropped. His eyes fogged up again. "It hurts me."_

_At that moment he saw Ander's swallowing again. He heard their strong breathing. Maybe Omar had misunderstood these things from the very beginning. Ander wanted to get rid of it and didn't know how to do it. That's why he acted like that._

_It was impossible to stop the tears with the thoughts coming to his mind. His wet cheeks were on the verge of completely falling apart, with his blushing moist eyes._

_"Why don't you understand Omar?" Ander shouted. He shouted looking at his face. Omar could no longer distinguish between emotions. He could not distinguish the feelings of the other man. "I complained about you because I wanted to get rid of you! I'm no longer a fucking child! I don't think the same way anymore ... I don't feel the same things anymore."_

_Everything was too much for Omar. He felt as if he had been living in his dream until that day and this man woke him up from there. Everything was like a lie. But he could not see what was a lie. Omar was feeling his real disappointment then. And tears flowed without hiccups._

_"Do not you love me anymore?" his helpless lips moved at this question. When there was so much to ask, those lips were opened for this. Omar had never doubted Ander's love, he never thought he would ask such a question._

_"I don't love." He didn't care about the gaze of the man in front of him. He didn't care about his swallowing, posture, trembling. He hurt in inside. He didn't care what the callous man was feeling._

_But he is Ander. Why don't you care?_

_"And what you don't want to understand? You can't give me anything I want! You are not enough for me! If I live with you I'll be doomed to die in this shithole. You-"_

_"Stop!" he interrupted him. He could not stand this man using the face of the man he fell in love with any more. He could not tolerate this man who used that melodious voice. "Shut up."_

_That man is Ander._

_Omar moved quickly towards the door. He didn't care that Ander's retreating made room for him, or how he looked at that moment._

_After opening the door, he muttered without looking at Ander before stepping outside._

_"Complain next time I'm selling drugs. If you want me to rot in jail, it's more realistic."_

_He was out of that man's house when he was completely shattered anymore._

\--- 

  * **11 November 1991**



Ander was very happy to have given Omar his completed poetry notebook. In fact, he could have kept this happiness all day long, but had Omar not kept that notebook in his hand and not focused all of his attention on it.

At first, this feeling offered Ander a strange pride. He was admired by him. He was lauded by him. Ander felt like he was looked after, as he was constantly looking at the notebook he was holding. But it didn't feel the same after a few breaks. Omar seemed to no longer see his existence because he was looking through those notebook. Or instead of Ander trying to speak, he was talking about the poems in that notebook. Although he wrote those poems himself in that notebook, he had no idea what they were trying to tell. And at that moment he was disturbed by the poems that aroused Omar's attention.

"Are you going to stare at it all day?" Ander, who was sitting in the empty desk in front of Omar, asked. Although they had been on the longest recess at that moment, they still had not gone to eat. The others, unlike the others students, were still sitting in the classroom.

"Is this a bad thing?" Omar said it while turning the page. Ander wanted to know if the source of the smile on his face was poems or himself. But he knew it would help no one to ask such a thing. Moreover, this question was very strange. The peculiarity of this question was spoken even in Ander's brain.

"No, but…" Ander began to speak timidly. His eyes, trying to see Omar's face, were now staring at the tiles on the floor. Ander had the timidity of his thoughts.

"But ..." When Omar finally pulled his head out of the notebook, he was completely staring at Ander.

"I'm hungry." He said he turned his eyes back to him. He didn't know why, but he felt his face warm.

Omar quickly closed the notebook and put it on his desk. When he reached his bag, he took something like a plastic bag from inside and put it on her desk. He muttered as he slowly opened the plastic bag he had put on desk.

"I made toast. We can eat these."

Ander liked that Omar found quick solutions. If he's not mistaken, this feature of him was proof of how fast he had a brain. Either Ander wanted to praise Omar, or he was just as smart as he thought. Either way, he felt a sense of admiration for him. Or that feeling was something other than a feeling of admiration, as he thought. After all, Ander didn't know what certain feelings were.

Ander took a piece of bread - a toast - that Omar handed over to him. When he ate boredly, he wished Omar would notice this.

"Don't you like it?"

He had misinterpreted it. Or it could have been because Ander's face was not as boring as he thought it was but because it was disgusted.

"No." he instantly opposed. "Why shouldn't I like it?" he said trying to hide his face. He felt very strange, a more strange feeling than he felt his face burn.

"Then what's the problem?" Omar asked curiously. He put the toast in his hand back into the plastic bag. "You look very strange."

He also learned that he was such a good human analyst - the human observer. Or maybe this observant side of him was most used in Ander. Or just this feature should have been used for him. Ander did not know why he had such self-centered feelings.

"I'm tired of standing in class all day."

Ander had said it easily. Being honest with him, being more honest after meeting him was one of the great qualities he gained.

He thought later that Omar might feel sorry for this. Until then, thanks to him - because of him - they sat in the classroom. But when he saw his broadening smile, that hesitation vanished. Ander only wanted to see the power of this smile himself. Only he could see it anyway.

"The day is not over yet." Ander was surprised when he suddenly took the bag in front of him and stood up. But he did not neglect to follow him with his eyes. "Shall we go outside? Let's walk around the garden."

Ander's face suddenly changed. He jumped up from the chair he was sitting on.

"Let's go outside." he said.

Ander didn't pay attention, but Omar took that poetry notebook with him when they got out. He did not know that he would not be able to separate him for a long time.

\---

  * **12 November 1991**



Ander was spending that day again looking at Omar and the completed poetry notebook. If he could see Omar's face, he wouldn't be so bored. But that notebook also prevented him from seeing his face. Ander would already hate it if that notebook didn't belong to that child. And if he did not have the beautiful writing of that child ...

"How long will you take care of that notebook?" Ander sat in one of the empty benches near Omar. No one of the students was questioning their friendship anymore, but no one seemed to care about Ander's existence either. So when the owner of that desk came, he was not telling Ander to get up, he was just waiting in front of him. Ander sometimes heard cough-like sounds when he could not notice the person waiting in front of him, and then he understood that he had to get up from the queue. He was upset that he still wasn't sitting close with Omar.

Without taking his attention from the notebook, Omar muttered as he turned the pages.

"I'm trying to memorize them."

Ander suddenly raised his arm, leaning on the desk.

"Are you trying to memorize them?"

Omar turned to Ander as he smiled.

"Yeah." he closed his poetry notebook and put it in front of him in desk. "Especially what you wrote."

Ander didn't know what to say for a few seconds. He made direct eye contact with him, but could not open his mouth. He was influenced by his words, he was influenced by his smile. How beautiful...

He turned his eye to another direction. The light from her face made the field of view so bright that it was invisible. What a beautiful sight ... What a sparkling sight ...

"You didn't hold this notebook that much before."

"Yeah." he chuckled. The melodic fluctuation of his voice was becoming the most precious treasure in his ears. He was very beautiful. And thinking that these effects on Ander were just a little shyness, Omar continued to speak. "I had memorized most of what I wrote."

"Incredible." Ander thought he was just going through it. But Omar's slightly pinked face and strange smile were proof that Ander had expressed this. He didn't want to take his word back. He wanted to enjoy this moment.

"Actually ..." Omar said involuntarily, hiding his face with his hands. He wanted to hide the stupid expression he thought was forming on his face at that moment. "I gave you this notebook to complete, but… I didn't think you would."

Ander asked, trying to look angry. This was some kind of game. Joke.

"Don't you trust me?" He raised his eyebrows.

Omar gave a sudden reaction. People turned to them because it was a little loud.

"No! It is not!" Omar made clear that he was uncomfortable with the eyes turning around him. Ander could understand this from every aspect of him.

"How then?" He approached Omar's desk and spoke in a low voice. There was a smile on his face, although not as effectively as Omar's.

"I told you before, I've been doing this for a long time and I love it. But you ..." Finally, Omar turned his eyes to Ander. "You don't love it, do you?"

Ander pursed his lips.

"Not to dislike. I don't understand, I guess."

With that sentence, the timid look on Omar's face was gone. It had just been replaced by the happy facial expression. But he was still seen with a hint of pink on his face.

"So ..." he took a deep breath and approached Ander just as Ander approached him. "... I want to do something for you too."

"How?" He asked in a straight voice, trying not to show his surprise. He didn't know why they were so close to each other at that moment.

"You will say that." Omar's smile grew even more on his face. "What do you want me to do for you?"

Ander suddenly pulled back. He leaned back in his chair. He didn't know why he was so embarrassed.

"It's not necessary." He wished it had been heard as his voice was quite low.

"But I want to do something for you..." Omar lowered his head trying to look offended and made his lips take a sullen expression.

Ander was hesitant at that moment. He knew it wasn't necessary, he didn't even see what he was doing as something important, but Omar's attention to what Ander was doing was spectacular.

"Something like what?" Ander tried not to give hope, but Omar was already hopeful.

"Whatever you want!"

I want to touch your face ...

Ander felt his cheeks warming even more with what he was thinking about. It was a very strange feeling.

Moreover, it was not easy to find what he wanted out of this emotional intensity. Or to say what he really wants.

But at last a request appeared in his mind. Maybe this would have been a more special and beautiful request. Although other requests crossed his mind ... Still, he wanted to touch his face. The friends could touch each other's faces, and Ander showed a strange timidity.

"Would you come to my home?" he spoke again in a low voice. Despite speaking in such a low tone, he knew. He could hear it.

Omar pulled back in his chair, just as Ander had just done. But his facial expression was the same. It could even have become more affectionate. Ander was busy managing the mess in his mind at that moment.

"Do you want this?"

Ander shook his head.

"Yes. I want to spend more time with you."

There was a strange silence between the two. They were looking at each other but not saying anything. It was as if they were trying to understand each other from their gaze.

It was the bell that broke the silence. When Ander instantly stood up, he turned to Omar to tell him he had to go to his desk. However, Omar didn't want him to leave right away. He held out clumsily, even though he knew that his hand would not reach him.

"When would you like to?"

Ander couldn't help but smiled. He gave a big smile that the tiny gap between his front teeth could be seen.

"Whenever you want."

Omar pulled back his hand, which did not reach Ander. He had just noticed that he was sitting in a strange way during his time and had recovered quickly.

"Can I come over the weekend?" At that moment he was more shy than Ander, but it was not possible for Ander to notice.

"Sure, you can." Ander hit a few students who said he had to take his desk. To students that he didn't even think he was classmates anymore.

And as he moved towards his desk, he was trying to cover the smile on his face with his hand.

\---

Ander seemed to have forgotten one of the most important things. His parents. He knew he could not take Omar home without asking them. He was angry with himself for ignoring this detail. He didn't know what to do if they didn't let Omar come.

When he told Omar what he wanted, he didn't think how he could get it back. His parents hadn't crossed his mind when he spoke to Omar. What would he say to Omar if anything went wrong?

There was no need to be crushed by his vain thoughts. He would talk about it with his parents and lie if necessary. After all, he made a promise to Omar. He wanted to bring him to his home.

The best moment to talk about this was when they had a meal. He would speak to them in this unique timeframe that showed the three of them living together. It's the only time they don't live in their homes as strangers to each other.

But everything was hard for Ander that day. His parents were eating their meals without a word in their mouths. Ander had expected at least one of them to speak. That way, he could intervene and turn the matter around.

Neither of them were speaking. There was still no one who opened their mouths. They were just taking care of their plates, and Ander knew that if he missed this proper moment, he would have the same trouble the next day. He should have talked to them before they finished their meal.

"I'll bring a friend here!" He suddenly said. Although the house was quiet enough, he had said aloud. He did that, not because they wouldn't hear he said, but because they wouldn't care. Then he noticed that the two of them looked back at him. He opened his mouth to speak again. This time his voice was heard quieter. "He will come this weekend."

"Who is that friend?"

Ander turned to his father. Until recently, he was actually avoiding eye contact with them because he was looking at his mother and then his father out of the corner of his eye.

"My classmate."

He knew that was not the answer to the question. He knew that his father would not be content with this answer. But he didn't want to be restless. His eyes sliding towards his mother saw his small smile. This little smile gave him some relief. This was a sign that he was getting approval from his mother. He already knew that his mother would not object.

"What's his name?"

As his father continued to speak, Ander began to shudder with questions. The questions had very simple answers, but the answers to these questions were very difficult for him. It was quite difficult to say.

Azucena had already turned to her husband when he thought he could get a moment's help from his mother.

"What does that matter, Antonio?"

Although Ander was relieved when he heard this, his small body startled when he heard his father's roar.

"Unlike you, I don't want my son to be friends with Arabs! It matters!" then he muttered something to himself. Ander heard those words quite well. "We came to this shit town because of you."

The words were spoken to silence Azucena. The woman had returned to her plate and was struggling not to look at Ander. She didn't think she could bear the shape of his face.

Ander felt completely alone after his mother's escaping glances. He felt that he would fight alone against his father. His small body was surrounded by greater fear; loneliness.

"What's his name, I said, Ander!"

Ander's shaking was visible when the same question was asked again. Although he had many lies in his mind, under this pressure he was only thinking of the correct answer.

"Answer me!"

Both his ears and his heart were ringing when his father hit the table. Ander was trying to persuade himself not to give the correct answer, but it made no sense. He was afraid. He was afraid of the treatment he would face when he lied. He was afraid of his father.

He did not realize that his eyes were fogging when he opened his mouth slowly. He spoke before quickly rising from the table with his head bowed to the ground. No matter how much he felt like lying, it was futile. He had told the truth.

"Omar." 

He had clearly heard what his father had said before running towards his own room. His shouting was echoing inside the house, and Ander had to hear the same words again. Over and over.

"You can't bring that boy to this house, did you hear me ?! If you ever think of something like this again, I'll even pick you up from that school! You won't be friends with them or anything! Did you hear me ?!"

Ander had heard quite well. But he didn't answer. He could not answer. When he entered his room and quickly closed the door, there was no reason for him to keep tears. He buried his face in his pillow, wiping his tears with the pillow as he drowned in sobs. Although he expressed how much he cried in hours, he could not express his suffer.

Whatever his father says, whatever other people say; He would not push Omar away from himself. He would not break this bond with him. Whatever they say. It wouldn't matter.

\--- 

  * **13 November 1991**



Ander woke up with a pain in his eyes and a headache. He did not want to face his mother or father that day. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to have to talk. He wanted to go to school as soon as possible. He did not want to put up with these moments of being exposed to seeing them any longer. It was already hurt enough.

When he went to school, it was early as usual. He saw out of the corner of his eye Omar sitting on his desk, but as he still did not think how to speak to him, he took his place without even greeting. He couldn't even see enough of his face. He didn't know why he was causing himself this pain too. Maybe if he looked at his face, he could feel more comfotable. He could feel more peaceful.

He sat in his desk chair. He was staring at the blackboard in front of him with a senseless gaze. And in those moments he felt like he was frozen. His thoughts were frozen, his movements and gaze frozen.

This feeling of frozenness faded away only when he heard his voice.

"Hey!" He had not seen what break he was coming to or even getting ahead of him. It was as if he felt him pop up in front of him. "You look very contemplative. Is there a problem?"

Ander felt that he could cry again at that moment. He didn't know when that need to cry in his eyes, in his heart, in his body, or whether it would pass. But he didn't have to show him this. Omar didn't have to see this version of him.

He looked at Omar as he gave a small smile to his face.

"No. I was just a little sleepless."

Lying to him was one of his biggest regrets. Actually, it wasn't exactly a lie. But the expression on his face was all lies. He could tell such problems if he saw him as his friend. But if he told Omar about his father's thoughts about Omar, he could have pushed him away. He couldn't stand it.

"Is that so?" Omar involuntarily extended his hand to Ander's cheek. He muttered as he gently rubbed his under his eyes. "Your eyes look so bad."

Ander felt a very different tremor in his body than it did yesterday. The fact that Omar's hand could reach his cheek so easily was unlike anything he could do. He felt Omar's warmth spreading throughout his body. He felt that warmth not only on his cheeks but throughout his body.

"Do I look ugly?"

He wanted to be a wave subject. He wanted to make small jokes that friends made among themselves. But this had a different effect on Omar. He had suddenly removed his hand from Ander's cheek. He had opposed Ander with panic moves.

"No! Of course not." Ander didn't think he could take this little joke so seriously. He didn't even think that his cheeks could turn red. He felt as if he was taking everything away. And when he opened his mouth again, he knew he had a trait that belonged to no one; He could read thoughts running through Ander's inside. "It looks like they're in pain."

The curly-haired boy responded with a laugh. Although it appeared so easily in his mouth, there was no feeling of happiness in him, even though it appeared so easily on his face. He also thought that Omar not only read inside well but also observed outside well. He had no idea how much he was attached to him.

"They obviously hurt a little, but it will pass over time." he said. This was said to eliminate the anxious expression on Omar's face. In fact, it was just a spoken sentence and such a distinct smile. Both were just lies.

"If you say so..."

For a long time, the smile on Omar's face did not appear. He was constantly studying him, studying his speech, examining his face. Ander thought that he was even examining his hands for a moment. He didn't know why he felt under such deep observation, but he did. Omar was watching him.

Still, this added to his sense of protection. He would keep him away from his own problems. He would keep him away from people who thought like his father. He would not allow Omar to suffer with the sick thoughts of people.

Even if he had to lie to him, even if he had to show him the lies, he would keep him away from bad thoughts -sick thoughts.

People had inflicted enough pain on him. People were humiliating him enough, Ander's father didn't need to be involved in these people. Ander didn't need to constantly think about these problems.

He could tell white lies, as his mother had told him long ago. He could tell white lies in order not to hurt him.

He could tell white lies to protect him. Perhaps it was also just a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a different line style in this chapter. To make the inner voices clearer. I hope I haven't confused you.
> 
> Thank you for reading !!  
> Feel free to comment :)


	14. Pansy and White Tulip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [PANSY ](https://www.flowermeaning.com/pansy-flower-meaning/)  
> [TULIP](https://www.1800flowers.com/blog/flower-facts/tulip-color-meanings/)   
> Pay attention to the YEARS and DAYS! Pay particular attention to the MONTHS!

  * **27 October 2004**



The door to Omar's room quickly opened. So much so that the two lying inside even thought it was an explosion. A loud moan was heard as Omar straightened up quickly without paying attention to his wound. For a few seconds his eyes were darkened by intense pain from his wound.

Even though Ander's eyes looked at the door at first, his eyes suddenly turned to where Omar was. He experienced something he never expected when his body got up to go to him involuntarily. One of the men he had guessed had just entered in Omar's room, quickly punched Ander in his stomach. Everything was happening so quickly that he soon felt his eyes darkening with the elbow on his back. As he lay all the way down on the ground, he was no longer conscious.

\---

When Omar saw Ander collapsed to the ground, he could not remember how much he yells his name. He only knew that he was yelling loud enough to feel the pain of his wound in his lungs.

When he saw Ander's body lying on the ground, he did not know why, but his hand reflexively wanted to reach him. Even, maybe at that moment he would touch his body which on the ground. Maybe Omar would want to touch a person years later. If the men who entered his room and knocked Ander unconscious had not grabbed his unconscious body by the arms, he would have touched him.

And perhaps Omar was grateful that those men drove Ander away from him at that brief moment.

He understood late who they were. His eyes only watched the owner of the best memories of his childhood fall to the ground. People could easily hurt him while Omar could not even hit him with a slap. His father did not feel sorry for his delicate body. His father did not feel sorry for his own son's body. Why would other people have pity for Ander's delicate body, when his father wasn't pity? And those people were people Omar knew well. Those people in Nano's group.

When Omar noticed this detail, he felt like he was shot in his head. He felt his body scorch with anger. He didn't care about his wound or anything. He shouted at those men who had taken Ander out of the room.

"What do fuck you think you're doing?" Omar was unaware, but he was already leaving his room and following them. It was the first time that his hands weren't going on his sore wound, his hands were swinging beside him, in fact they wanted to touch the body they had not touched for years. Ander's unconscious body. 

There were others besides the two who held that body. They were all Nano's men. He knew them all.

Omar was losing himself in the stream of thought in his brain. He felt that breaths were not going to his lungs.

"I'm talking to you, fools!" He realized that his wound was hurting. In fact, he seemed to remember that he had a wound. He was moving so fast to reach them that he seemed to forget that he was injured. He had to climb down the stairs when he ran after them. He could not do anything but shout behind them to stop them. Moreover, there was no one in his group. Omar was completely desperate. He was completely alone. 

He felt overwhelmed by that feeling of misery.

"What happened, Omar? You finally got out of bed." The person speaking was Nano. After descending the stairs, he and the other members of his group formed a circle at the entrance of the building. Omar did not understand what was happening, but he felt seriously uneasy.

Those carrying Ander's unconscious body had left him as if tossed to the ground. Omar would take the few remaining steps to reach Ander instead of answering Nano, when he was stopped. He was stopped by the knife in Nano's hand.

"What's on your mind, dippy fucker?" Omar said while trying to stay calm.

A knife in Nano's hand. Ander lying unconscious near him. Omar, who was left alone, watched this scene in fear.

“I thought…” He moved the knife in his hand and took a few steps toward Ander's body. He placed his right foot on Ander's chest. Omar was angry with himself for just watching this sight. He forgot the thousands of thoughts that passed through him and he was just angry with himself.

_That fucking man steps on Ander's body with his fucking foot and you're just watching. You are still weak. Weak!_

"... We failed the delivery. We have no money. We have nothing to sell." Nano pressed his foot harder on Ander's chest. Omar saw the gestures on Ander's face move. He was suffering in front of his eyes and Omar was just watching. Now he understood better what that despair meant.

_You are no different from him!_

"Why do we still obedient to each other Omar?" his menacing gaze was on Omar. The question he asked in a chilling tone had further strengthened Omar's storm of anger.

"Why do you think we failed the delivery?" he took a few steps towards Nano, with courage filled him. He wanted to lift and tear the foot that stepped on Ander's chest. He wanted to tear the man to pieces.

"Why do you think we didn't get our money that day?" He was asking, trying to stay calm. The distance between them was considerably shorter.

"Answer me! You fucking asshole!" he shouted. He wanted to scream all his anger at him. He shouted as much as the pain of his wound allowed him. He shouted, ignoring the strangeness of the loud speech in his throat. He shouted when he had no other choice but to take strength from his anger.

Nano raised his eyebrows. Omar's attitude was too daring for him. He knew all the weak points of the man in front of him, and at that moment there was a man under his feet that Omar protected. Nano found himself quite advantageous. He was right to see it that way.

"What are you talking about?" he asked with a chuckle. It was an angry laughter. Nano could see that Omar was self-controlled to avoid getting close to him. But he could also see that they were getting closer to each other.

"Aren't you the cause of all this shit?"

The smile on Nano's angry face disappeared. He was taking out his growing anger out of the body under his foot.

"Speak clearly, Omar. Stop talking like a riddle." he spoke defiantly. There was less than a step between them. He noticed that Omar's anger looked the more frightening up close.

Omar bit his lips. He stopped the verbal crowd in his mouth. He stopped his eyes so as not to look at the unconscious body on the ground. He clearly wanted to face Nano.

"You are the cause of the attack on the truck. You betrayed us."

Omar said this quite calmly. He had spoken to him, although he was confronted with him, even though he looked him in the eye and did not have the slightest sense of doubt. At that moment, he felt another chill in his body. A chill saying something was wrong.

No matter how mean man Nano was, he wouldn't betray them.

Although he heard a few giggles around them, creepy whispers also began. Omar refused to turn his head and look at them. He didn't know why he felt so lonely at that moment. This feeling was very familiar.

_Damn! You've experienced this before. Damn!_

The feeling of being wrong, the feeling that he felt betrayed when he realized he was wrong; He had experienced this before. People were not really ripe. They just weren't smarter. He didn't learn from the mistakes he made. Just like other people didn't.

"You...!" Omar could hear the creak of teeth in Nano's mouth. He could also hear the body on the ground slowly waking up. He could hear that moaning too. "... Are you aware of what you're saying?"

Regardless, Omar thought he was not mistaken. Omar thought he didn't make mistakes again. Otherwise, he did not know how to deal with that situation, how to find courage in himself. He felt very broken.

"Don't pretend you don't know to anything, Nano." Omar said while maintaining his determined stance. He continued speaking, not realizing that he had raised his voice. 

"You hijacked the goods in the truck to get the coins alone." 

An involuntary giggle came out of his mouth. This was a giggle from the pressure that the situation had put on him. 

"Tell me Nano ... Are you hiding the money with you?"

Nano raised his hand without the knife. As he quickly lowered his hand over Omar's face, he did not care how the other man reacted to the people touching him. He didn't care that the man in front of him was his business partner. He did not even feel pity for him when he fell to the ground from the impact of that slap - and his wound.

"Are you aware of what you're saying, stupid guy?"

Omar didn't care about the question he heard. Omar did not care about his aching wound, the wound he fell on. He didn't care about the pain that the wound caused in his body.   
He cared about that touched his face.   
He cared about the hand that touched his face.   
He didn't care if his face was hurt by a hand, but that his face was contaminated by a hand. His face was dirty. Omar was dirty.

He had to clean it up. He had to clean himself up. He was trying to clean his face with resentment, anger, screams.

_He touched! Touched! They touched you! They touched your face!_

Omar rubbed his face so hard that it split. He swiftly carried his hand on his face. He knew that the sound he made reminded the voice of a madman - just like his father.

"Sick guy..."

Nano said when he ran his scornful gaze over him. He turned to the crowd around him. He lifted his foot above the body below. As he took a few steps away, he started to speak to the men in his group. He still didn't catch his eye, but Christian wasn't there. He didn't know why he ignored such an important subject.

"You see, right?"

He turned back to Omar. He looked at the state of Omar on the ground, which almost shattered his cheek, with pity. He had to shout quite a bit to drown out his screams, but he spoke in a low voice. "... what kind of sick the man you call the boss is ..."

Omar knew that the skin that touched his cheek would not get rid of the dirt. He knew, but could not pull his hand from his face. He could not stand up. His body could not see how dirty his clothes were, but his hand touching his face seemed to have had the same moment over and over again.

Although he felt that his face was starting to burn and how much his wound had hurt, he could not stop. At that moment, although he knew he was no different from a sick man, he could not stop. He could not control his body as that feeling of contamination allowed tears to pour out of his eyes.

When a muffled voice came from the right side of the body, for some reason all these emotions, that dirtyness, everything was ready to stop. That man's voice could rule Omar's body, but Omar couldn't manage his own body.

"Omar ..." slowly saw that hand reach for him. He wasn't afraid that that hand would touch him… that hand would touch him. He wouldn't feel dirty if he touched him. He knew he wouldn't feel that way. "Please ... stop it ..."

That hand hadn't touched him. That hand had waited near him. Omar felt grateful to that hand, for the voice he heard, as if awakened from a terrible nightmare.

"Ander ..." Omar could not understand the calmness of saying his name. Anymore his body had forgotten the feeling of contamination on his face. "Are you okay?"

When Ander's eyes opened in amazement, he noticed how much his body ached. His body, especially his head, was too painful to move. His hand was behind his head when a slight groan came out of his mouth. He was staring at Omar, unable to hide the grin on his face.

"I'm okay." If he was the one who asked, he already knew he is okay.

It didn't take long for him to be awakened from this humiliation. Ander couldn't even counter when his body was suddenly lifted by several people. Omar realized that while he was content with looking at Ander's body raised from the ground, he forgot what was around him. He realized that he had forgotten Nano, that he had forgotten what Guzman was saying.

Anymore he understood, albeit slowly. The person who betrayed them was Guzman.

Omar only believed in his lies and his amazing acting. He put on a magnificent play that made him think Nano betrayed them. One side of Omar was angry at Guzman, while the other was angry with what Nano did and will do. Although he could not make certain in his head exactly what and how Guzman was doing, he knew he was getting the money. Both the money they get on delivery and all of Ander's money. Omar was now slowly trying to think of the pain, not the dirtiness of his skin.

Even though Ander's body couldn't resist, he didn't hold back from speaking. Ander, who was seated on a chair and his body tied with thick ropes, felt a serious sense of guilt for obeying what happened. But with that shoulder, with that blow to the head, he did not feel the strength to counter to any human being.

"Let me... Let me go, you fuckers! What are you doing? Let me go!" His resist was left with only words.

But it was in vain. His conversation was in vain. His struggle and that resistance were in vain. His effort to try to get rid of the strings tied to his body was in vain. One of the moments when he realized this was during one of the hard hits on his face. It was a warning sign for silence.

This warning sign to Ander lifted Omar off the ground he was lying on. He realized that he was attached to a chair and that they were both prisoners at that time.

Both were alone. They were weak.

"Nano! What are you trying to do?"

Omar knew that calling out to others was futile. Also, because he did not want a few extra hands to touch his body, he was not acting too threateningly. He was clearly trying to stay calm. He was trying not to make any wrong moves.

"I said it before, Omar ... There's no point in being obedient to each other anymore." While Nano said this calmly, he was in front of the chair that Ander had been sit to forced into. When a devilish smile broke on his face, he looked first at Ander and then at Omar.

"And as I understand you have already chosen me as the one who betrayed our bussiness."

Omar tried to silence the thousand kinds of thoughts that passed through his brain. He did not know who the poorest looking person was at that moment. Is Ander, whose body is tied to a chair and completely vulnerable, is he own self who doesn't have a single person left to trust and is in love with the man who has the biggest role in his trust problem with people, or is Nano who thinks he can declare a victory by capturing those two men; He didn't know who was pitier.

"I don't think so anymore." Omar said while trying to keep calm and not look at Ander's body. "I don't think you betrayed anymore."

He heard a laugh. A chilling laugh. An angry laugh from Nano's mouth.

"Do you think it makes any difference?" He continued to speak as his face became more and more creepy. "Do you think it makes sense to change your mind now?"

Omar could not answer. He couldn't even find the strength to open his mouth. He could not find the courage himself.

Nano thought he could see Omar's desperate state more clearly anymore. The man who had just been acting like a madman had stopped, stopped suddenly. Nano was both suspicious of this and was convinced that taking Ander prisoner was the right choice. He had seen how much Omar needed him.

"I'm very curious, Omar." A few steps away from Ander, he approached Omar.

"Did you give Guzman the money to save your ass? Did you trust him more than me? Or ..." He leaned over to Omar's face.

"Or are you more stupid than I thought?"

Omar ignored the insults inflicted on him. He tried to ignore him. He tried to pretend he didn't care as every word that passed his ear was engraved in his brain. He swallowed. He swallowed all the feeling of humiliation.

"How do you know that the money was given to Guzman?" He took care that his voice was not uncontrolled. He said, trying not to shake his voice and not show the great chaos in him.

Nano chuckled. When he chuckled, Omar felt his misery grew even more. Nano was approaching Ander as he moved away from Omar's field of vision. Step by step he was approaching Ander. The chill of the uncertainty within him increased as Nano approched to Ander. When he turning his face to Omar, he spoke without touching Ander, pointing to him.

"Since this guy wasn't going to give him a bag of gum, we thought he might gave him a bag of money."

Omar heard the laughter of the people around him. He heard people laughing at him in the same building, in the same poverty, with the same money. He heard them insulting him. He heard how miserable he was.

_Pity! Be ashamed yourself. Be ashamed of this shitty self!_

"Did you see?" Omar murmured. He muttered what was on his mind to silence his feelings in that confusion.

"Yes!" Nano had heard well, no matter how hoarse Omar's voice was. He continued to scream when he thought that there was no point in stopping his anger, talking calmly.

"You trust when you give him a bag of money! But you don't trust me?" He hesitated. He paused for a moment to get his voice louder.

"Idiot!"

Nano suddenly moved to the back of Ander's chair. He gripped Ander by his hair. As he brought his head closer to him, he heard a little cursing come out of his mouth. He remembered that the man who had been quiet until just before could actually speak. Nano took the knife he was still holding to Ander's throat. He realized how sharp it was when the knife made a very thin cut in Ander's throat. Moreover, Ander was aware that he should not move much under that knife. Still, he aimed his angry gaze at Nano. But Nano did not see that gaze, he saw how much Omar's gaze and movements had changed. Ander had not seen those changing movements of Omar, either.

"Say it!" He shouted, looking at Omar. He was holding Ander's hair tight enough to tear it off. "Where did you get the money you gave Guzman?"

"Put that knife down ... then let's talk." Omar tried to speak, keeping the calm in his voice. But this was not possible as much as he thought.

When he saw that Nano's knife was bringing it closer to Ander's throat, he shouted and tried to approach them.

"Nano! Drop that fucking knife!" With a few steps, one of his right arm and one of his left arm were held simultaneously.

His mind was in the image before him, although the hands touching his body filled him -although he fills up with a sense of dirtying- with enough anger to drive him mad. His mind, his eyes, focus of his whole body; It was on the knife that Nano pressed against Ander's throat.

"Put that knife down!" she said out loud. He still didn't know why he was yelling at Nano when he could tell the men holding his arms to release him. He didn't know why he was still thinking of Ander while his body was being touched by others.

Nano laughed angrily at Omar's brave and desperate shouts. He spoke to Omar as he pulled back the knife that he was holding to Ander's throat.

"OK. I'll put it on ground..." He threw the knife to the ground. He dropped it so quickly that Omar did not realize that the knife had fallen to the ground. Omar still had in his mind, image of Ander's stabbing in his throat. He suddenly thought that Nano had already stabbed Ander when his field of vision was blocked. But before he realized that this was a game his brain was playing for him, he had to see Nano hit Ander's body.

Nano took his hand away from Ander's hair. When he took a few steps he was in front of the chair. He quickly dropped one of his fists into Ander's face. Quickly the second and more. He continued hitting the body in front of him, ignoring Omar's screams. He didn't care how bloodied his face was, how painfully harsh Omar's voice sounded. He hit and hit. He hit even though he knew he would win nothing as a result.

"Stop! Let him go! Stop that shit! Stop now! I beg you... Stop..."

Omar kept saying the same things. He kept repeating the same words. Although his voice sounded angry and threatening at first, after a while he continued to speak in a pleading voice. Ander's body's inability to react to the blows that hit him after a while made his voice more quiet.

The chair, in which Ander was forced to sit and tied with ropes, fell to the ground with Ander. Omar could see that he fell to the ground despite Nano's body, which blocked his field of vision. He could see the blood draining from him.   
There was blood flowing on the face that Omar could not bear to slap. There was blood flowing on the face Omar could not bear to look.

"Let him go ... You shit ..." Omar murmured before getting down on his knees. He couldn't look where Ander fell, and even if he did, he certainly wouldn't be able to see him. There were a few other people in front of him except Nano, although Omar's arms were still held by dirty people, his brain only thought of the landscape in front of him.

Omar saw that Ander's body was freed from the chair when several people were taken in front of him. There were no ropes surrounding his body anymore. There was no chair he was forced into. He was lying motionless on the ground. On dusty, earthy, muddy ground. His beautiful body lay in that dirty.

Omar made a move to get rid of those who wrapped his arms. Although he knew he could not get rid of them, he made a move to resist them. But he could not get rid of them.

He was weak. He was injured. He was pity.

When Nano stopped in front of Omar, he realized that the people around Ander were not completely dispersed. He didn't know why they were waiting. Perhaps Nano could explain why. Or a few smelly words would spill out of that filthy mouth.

Nano leaned a very short distance from Omar's face.

"It was because you snuck behind my back." Nano smeared Ander's blood on Omar's face, from his right hand, mixed with his own. "I made to paid him the price you have to pay."

Omar did not move despite this intolerable pollution. He felt nothing but the scratching of his eyelids and the ache of his lips pressing together. If he did, he would feel the pain radiating from his stomach to his whole body. If he did, he would feel the helplessness that spreads from his heart to his whole body. He felt like he was stoned after Nano's words.

Despite the unbearable anger growing inside him, he felt stoned. He was the reason. The reason for all this was Omar. Omar was cursing his stupidity from the depths of his heart. His stupidity, his pathetic. Whatever he had was insulting.

_You are the same asshole like him! You hurt him! Just as he hurt you, you hurt him too!_

_It's all your fault, asshole!_

When Omar suddenly felt the hands holding his arms tighten further, he could hear the voices coming in. He was sure that one of them was a female voice. Or he was sure that one of them was definitely someone he knew. But he couldn't turn his face there. Everything seemed to be happening quickly.

\---

"Have you started tormenting people since we haven't met, Nano?" When Rebeka entered the building, she began to speak in a loud echoing voice.

She was observing the building with her eyes as she gained time from the people around her looking at her in astonishment. She thought it resembled a sewer from the inside, while it was clean enough from outside that it was a building ready to collapse. A sewer that has contaminated its contents.

Then, not looking at Nano, she looked at the bloody body on the ground and the body held by two people on his knees opposite him. Although she did not know them well enough, she felt angry at that moment. She was sure she had spoken to one of them before. But her memory was not strong enough to keep that moment in her memory.

"What happened, did you forget to talk?" Rebeka spoke more calmly when she was a few steps away from Nano. She hadn't neglected to put on a mocking expression on her face.

"What are you doing here?" Rebeka could see Nano's talking through his teeth. Although this broadened the sarcastic expression on her face a little more, she preferred to get even more serious.

She spoke again a few seconds later, looking back to make sure they were behind her.

"I came to visit." She raised one eyebrow.

"This shithole has become a tourist destination lately." She continued talking as she walked a few steps away from Nano.

"I thought I should visit, too."

"You bitch-" When Nano made a move to walk on Rebeka, the tall woman had to retreat. Still, she used her hand to keep Nano away from her.

"Shhh! First look at this beauty behind me ..." she continued to speak without stopping her grin. "...talk later."

Nano looked around when his attention was drawn from the tall woman. Guzman, Guzman's group, Omar's group, and his own brother. Samuel. They were all standing side by side.

Nano was angry that the side that was defeated was the one who was betrayed.   
He was angry that her brother was standing next to those two idiots. He was angry with the man who was supposed to be his brother-in-law.

Yet he couldn't resist there, in that filth, with so few people. He couldn't show them how angry he was at that moment. He couldn't get revenge on them at that moment.

He withdrew as he made eyebrows and eye movements for his men to release Omar. He took his steps outside to get away from the building.

\---

Despite Omar being released, he still had not tried to approach Ander's body, although he was now rescued. Kneeling on his knees, his body seemed to be powered by the two arms that had actually held him up to that point. He realized this when he collapsed completely on the gorund.

Omar felt his whole body tremble. He might have felt this way because of people who held his arms and just let them, and he might have felt this way from looking at Ander's bloodied face.

It was certain that he felt a great chills in his body.

It was such a shaking that it suppressed the strong nausea in his stomach. It was such a shaking that it suppressed the uncomfortable feeling on the body of the people who touched it. It was such a shaking that it made him forget about the hands and bodies that had soiled his body years ago. He understood better at that moment the reason for this tremor. Fear that he might be hurt. Fear of losing him.

The fact that the man lying in front of him was hurt is what shaking his body.

His heart struggling with his brain when Omar realizes why he is trembling so much now; the boy and the young man at war had stopped. One side was waiting to declare its victory. When Omar slowly extended his shaking hand to him, he felt he really wanted to reach him. He felt that he really wanted to touch her skin. As he touched his body slowly, he wanted to cry with the feeling of bullishness that filled his tears.

Omar thought he was defeated as his heart and the little child in him screamed for victory. He also wanted to weep for that defeat when he grasped his body and pulled him to himself so that he would not be hurt anymore.

He wanted to cry in such a way that he would avenge his anger at him from his own tears. He wanted to cry in such a way that until he let out his anger for not touching him in these six days when he stepped here and was here. He wanted to cry in such a way that he forgot his dirty past.

Nobody knew; how much he missed his head standing like this in front of his knees, how much he missed that little boy who slept on his knees for hours, how much he missed looking at his face for hours, how much he missed touching him. No one knew, how much he missed to feel his presence up close. Nobody knew how much Omar missed Ander.

Still, maybe Ander could know that. Ander could know this longing.

He could feel the wetness and arrogance of the tears running down his face when he saw his lids that opened slowly. Tears for his burning soul. Insolent tears for him.

And the words coming out of his mouth did not obey Omar either. It was as if his childhood had taken over Omar's whole body.

"I'm sorry..." a hiccup was running out of his mouth. 

“My fault…” his tearful voice was quite muted. 

"I'm so sorry..."

Omar hated his tongue, his lips, his mouth, asking him for forgiveness. Every time... he hated feeling weak to him every time. He hated himself for not stopping that dusty, muddy, dirty hand approaching his face, trembling like Omar's body. He hated himself for hurting a tear falling from Ander's right eye.

He would have wanted to wipe that tear. He wanted to clean the blood that smeared his face. He wanted to clean that soil, that dust, that mud, that dirt. If he could do anything but cry like a little boy and ask for forgiveness, he would do whatever he wanted. If he really listened to what he wanted, he would.

But when Ander's hand touched his face, Omar's urge to clean disappeared. He knew that even if Ander's hand was drowning in the dirty when he moved on his face, he wouldn't care. It was at the same time that he felt the pause when he felt that hand move gently across his face. The words left Ander's blood-red lips. The words parted Ander's injury lips. His thin lips, smeared with blood, the words were heard.

"I miss you so much..."

\---

  * _**12 December 1997**_



_Omar was a little afraid of meeting in this house in the evening. If he brightened the environment as much as he wanted, people could notice them; if he didn't brighten it as much as he wanted, he wouldn't be able to see Ander's face. Both were like a tough test for him. Also, he didn't like the dark. Although he knew this place better than anyone since he was 10, he was afraid of the dark of the night. This fear reminded him that he was still a child. Sometimes when he thought that this fear would never pass, he hoped he could always remain a child. After all, the darkness was less frightening than humans._

_At least the dark wasn't telling anyone what those two were doing. The dark was silent._

_He was alone for minutes. He was questioning why he was the first to come, although it was Ander who called him. Usually, Ander would not ignore his fear, but would not call him when something very important happened. He would have lied if he said he wasn't worried._

_His chill grew even more with footsteps coming from outside the door. However, he tried to relax with the thought that Ander had come in his mind. If it wasn't Ander, he didn't know what to do._

_The body, which came after a few footsteps, sat on the mattress that was laid on the floor, just like Omar. Not caring about Omar's slight shaking, he brought his body closer to him._

_"Ander is that you, right?" Omar asked, trying to hide his frightened voice._

_Ander pulled back a little on the body, which he brought closer to Omar. He cleared his throat. He asked, trying not to be serious._

_"Were you expecting someone else?" Omar went to the small lantern on the floor for a small filter of light. He was sure that Ander was laughing mischievously at that moment, and he needed to see his face._

_"Don't kid with me." he tried to sound like he was angry. He didn't know why he still couldn't find the flashlight on the floor._   
  
_"You know I don't like the dark." When he finally found his flashlight, he took a deep breath and turned on the light._

_"And why you-"_

_There was a little light from the flashlight. Omar had deliberately taken that flashlight with him. People outside might not notice the light because it was a broken lantern. At that time, not many people were passing there anyway. There were no other people except high school students who wanted to walk around at night. That's why Omar felt he could turn on that dim light. When he opened it, he saw Ander's busted lip and bruise eyes._

_He tried to be polite even though his hand went directly to his face. He moved it so quickly that he was careful not to be hard enough to slap his hand. His behavior had become awkward as he entered a panic state. His voice was loud involuntarily._

_"For God's sake! What happened to your face?" He quickly put the flashlight down, as he wanted to bring the hand he was holding to his face. The shaking light frightened him a little, though not like the fear he experienced when he saw Ander's face, he was afraid. The flashlight he had left as if he tossed on the ground was quite far away from them._

_Omar grabbed Ander's face with both hands, while Ander put his hand to one of them. Omar couldn't be sure he had seen enough in the dark. Ander's eyes seemed just shut. When he touched Omar's hand, it seemed to his eyes open slowly._

_"I hit the closet ..." He hesitated. He was lucky to hide his face in the dark. He was lucky to have some things that Omar hadn't seen. "Would you believe if I said it...?"_

_Omar felt Ander's face move. He didn't know how he could smile at those moments. He didn't know how he could act so reckless._

_As Omar became more and more serious in his voice, he ignored the question Ander had just mockedly asked._

_"Tell me what happened, Ander." he spoke in a solemn and monotonous voice. His hands did not move from Ander's face, but Ander had just let go of Omar's hand he had just held._

_Ander was also slowly getting serious._

_"I had a fight with Gil." He was also trying to get closer to Omar as he moved his head slightly towards the ground. "After school, on the way home... He suddenly said something, I couldn't stand it. I had a fight with him."_

_Omar didn't know what to answer. He wished he could be there at that moment. If he was there at that time, maybe Ander wouldn't have fought him._

_"Until when will this continue like this?" Even though Ander's voice was heard tears, Omar hoped it would not be. He knew that Ander would not cry for a simple fight. Or maybe it wasn't as simple a fight as he thought.,_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_Although Omar knew what Ander was talking about, he ignored it. He had asked, even though he knew he would feel worse when he heard it in his mouth. He asked, even though he knew his answer, knowing that his answer would hurt him._

_Omar felt Ander's head was at his line. That's why his head was a little bowed. He could not see him clearly. Moreover, he could hear his breath and feel his warmth._

_"I'm talking about your continuous disappearance." Anders voice sounded angry, but it also sounded like crying. Omar felt serious guilt._

_He heard him take a deep breath._

_"You're getting away from classes to sell drugs. You're getting away from school. You're getting away from me!" Omar heard every ending word of Ander louder. He spoke louder, more angry, more pleading._

_When the anger in Ander's voice suddenly disappeared, the sadness in his voice could be heard more clearly._

_"I don't want to be without you."_

_Omar could not answer. He could not make confident promises to him. He waited to hear his feelings. But apparently what he had to say after that was much different._

_There was a faint smile on his face, which he could not see due to the darkness. There was a slight chuckle in his voice, but he continued to speak before the fragility disappeared._

_"Actually I wanted to cover my face before I got here ..." he swallowed. It was such a swallow that Omar heard it. "... I rummaged through my mom's makeup tools to cover my face."_

_Omar could hear Ander's giggles increase. He could hear other emotions running through him, but he still giggled. It must have been some kind of a nervous breakdown._

_"But I couldn't find anything." His giggling voice had stopped. There was great seriousness and sadness in his voice. Omar approached him further to show that he was with Ander. He could hear his voice getting more fragile, and he could feel his body shaking more and more._

_“That shitty man…” Ander seemed to be looking for a place to hide his face. Omar was trying to hide his face in the dark even if he couldn't see it. "He threw everything belongs her away ..."_

_Ander's hoarse voice spoke in a way that Omar could hear enough. Omar made a move to wrap his arm around Ander's neck. He could feel his surrender as he slowly leaned Ander's head against his shoulder._

_Ander was surrendering to Omar's touch, his hug, his arms. The intensity of emotion - anger, pain - in him finally surrendered to Omar's shoulder as he made him cry._

_"I miss her so much, Omar." He confessed. He confessed in hiccups. "I miss my mom so much."_

\---

  * **13 November 1991**



Ander hid the things that had troubled him during that day.

With a small smile he could destroy all of the disturbing emotions in him. He could pretend to be happy with his own smile. Or he could react realistically to Omar's smile, cheerful demeanor, and peaceful behavior. But he just felt his face react. He just felt his face move all day.

There were wars of emotion in his heart. Those wars were turning into a shock. The aftermath is a huge destruction. But it was all happening inside. He didn't reflect that on his face.

Ander suspected that this too could be a lie. He was lying to his own feelings. Ander seemed to be lying to Omar's feelings, which felt benign, no matter where he was with him. He was telling them they were uneasy.

_Because you're lying looking at his face._

On the way home, his mother was with him that day. When Omar came to him eagerly, he did not want to tell him that he would come back with his mother. He did not want to destroy his little enthusiasm. Yet when he told him that he was going with his mother, he had never acted like he was sorry.

It made Ander think that he was a two-faced boy.

On the way home, he did not open his mouth at the dinner table. He had not spoken any words to either her mother or father. It might show them that Ander was broken. But it didn't work well.

The little boy went straight to bed after doing his daily routine that day. In particular, he turned his face to the side of the wall, to the side of the window. The light of the street lamps was invisible from the window of Ander's room. Instead, there was the light of the stars. The light of the stars was visible, even though it seemed pitch dark outside. He had noticed this a few days ago. Although it had been quite a while since he got there, he had only thought of looking at the stars outside a few days ago. However, for a lonely little boy, staring at the stars was an activity that had to be done beforehand.

Then the little boy heard the knob being turned. It was opening so slowly that the door was sure this person wasn't his father. He would not have been so kind and thoughtful. If he had something to say, he would open the door without hesitation and say what he would say before going inside, and leave.

He felt bad because he could tell the difference between his mother and father even from the way the door opened. He didn't know why they were so different.

"Ander, are you sleeping?" Azucena called to him.

He knew that he could not be angry with his mother's kind voice and his gentle and thoughtful behavior. But the reason for the loneliness he experienced at the table that day was his mother. He didn't want to forgive her immediately. So he did not answer her call. His back was turned to his mother, and neither of them could see each other's faces.

The woman slowly took care to close the door before she sat down on her son's bed. She didn't want what she wanted to talk to Ander heard by anyone else, at least by her husband.

"Are you angry with me?" She spoke, assuming Ander was awake. She hadn't turned the light on.

Ander didn't answer again. He was clenching his pillow with his hands, seeming to take his anger out of his pillow so as not to speak.

"Isn't it because of your father?" The woman asked in a low voice.

No matter how hard Ander tried to hold himself back, he had failed. He was suddenly sitting on his bed. Although he could not see his mother well in the dark, he knew where she stood. He spoke, caring how uncontrolled his voice was.

"Yes! I'm angry with you because of my father."

His mother did not warn him because of his voice. She could not find the copy to warn him. But since she wanted him not to have bad thoughts about his father, she decided to say things that would calm him down.

"Your father thinks of your good, honey..."

Ander was angry at his mother's defense of his father. He got mad at those words that made him feel stupid.

"He doesn't want me to meet a boy he doesn't know just because he is Arab. He doesn't want him to come to his house because he is Arab." Ander was surprised that his voice could sound so controlled. He hesitated a little and continued. He tried to lower his voice.

"I'm not stupid..."

Azucena rolled her hand around the bed, wanting to reach her son's body. People could add their feelings by touching. In doing so, the woman wanted to convey her feelings of regret to her son.

"I know, honey. Of course, you aren't stupid. I didn't mean it that way."

Although Ander tried to retreat in the bed to get away from the hands he felt approaching, his place was very small. He could not escape from the hands.

"What did you mean then?" he asked when he let his mother hold his hands.

"Don't think badly about your father, please. But…" Ander couldn't see this, couldn't see a warm smile on his mother's face.

"...You don't have to stop meeting with that boy."

Although Ander was surprised by his mother's sincere words after yesterday's silence, he tried not to react to any surprise.

"I will not end my friendship with him." Ander knew he was so brave that he was against his mother. Otherwise, he might not be able to say these words to his father.

"I don't care what you want."

"I understand." Azucena spoke a little loudly so that his hoarse voice could be heard.

"I was trying to say that too." She wrapped Ander's hands tighter.

"You are free to do whatever you want. But if you think something bad will happen to you-"

"He won't do anything bad to me." Ander decisively interrupted his mother.

Azucena now realized that there was little point in putting good thoughts on him about his father. She stretched out her arms where Ander sat on the bed before she slowly got out of bed. She started talking when she wrapped his little body in her arms.

"I hope everything will be the way you want." She had spoken in Ander's ear mutter.

Ander responded to her hug, even though he did not understand what his mother was saying at that moment. He would understand in time. He thought that his arms were automatically hugged by his mother. In fact, he had a side that was too discouraged to admit to himself that he wanted to hug his mother.

No matter how angry he was with her, he felt at that moment that the hug removed all his restlessness.

When his mother got out of bed, Ander called to her.

"I'll meet him at the weekend." He took care not to make his voice loud. He was trying to hide his embarrassment by bowing his head, but the darkness was already obscuring the image of his face.

"Maybe not in this house, but somewhere else. I'll definitely meet him."

When the embarrassed expression on his face wiped off, he saw his mother open the door. Azucena could see the smile on Ander's face when the light from the corridor entered the room.

"I'll tell him white lies, Mom."

When these words reminded herself of Azucena's own words, she gave her son an awkward smile.

"Be careful though, Ander." she said before leaving the room completely.

"A lie, whatever color, is a lie."

Although she felt that he was a little late to say this to her son, she did. Before she left the door she noticed that Ander's face hadn't changed at all. She wished him good night. And she left the room.

Azucena felt uneasy as Ander returned to sleep with relief.

\---

  * **14 November 1991**



Ander tried to go to school that morning in a pleasant way. He did not show his mother his sullen face and demoralize her. But he did not feel the same for his father. He felt that no matter how he treated him, his father wouldn't care.

Therefore, it could not be said that he was very kind to his father. He had both shown his sullen face and did not respond to his morning reception. Later, he was glad that his father was not angry with Ander for his behavior.

\---

Although Ander came to school early, he seemed to be used to seeing Omar often during his desk. He didn't think it was boring to stand alone in the morning in the classroom, when he first arrived that town, but after meeting Omar he started to think that loneliness was pretty boring.

For several days, it was becoming a habit for Omar to arrive even earlier than Ander in the morning and Ander to see him in the classroom. And this habit made him think that it was nice to come and go to school. It made him think that getting up early in the morning was not a pain.

Without leaving his bag in his own desk, he rushed straight to Omar's side.

"Good Morning." He greeted him with his warmest smile. On the one hand, he was preparing to settle in the empty desk in front of Omar.

In half an hour, the owner of that empty desk would come. Ander was preparing to make the most of this time.

"Good Morning." Omar muttered as he put the notebook in order that Ander had given him and had not dropped for days. Although not as energetic as Ander's, he tried to be more energetic in the continuation.

"You look very good today."

His smile widened when Ander heard this. He liked that Omar was sensitive to him. It made him think it was a very polite act.

"That's why I slept well."

"If you say so ..." Omar replied to Ander without much emphasis again. He didn't want to be persistent with him. Moreover, if there were subjects that he did not want to talk about or wanted to keep to himself, Omar had no right to tamper with them.

Omar felt bad for thinking that way.

"Omar..." Ander suddenly called out to him, noticing that his gaze was turning in the opposite direction of Ander. When he turned back to Ander, he realized he looked more serious. Omar was also deeply affected by the sudden mood swings of this child. "...I have something to tell you."

Omar approached his desk with curiosity. He wanted to see and analyze the expression on Ander's face more clearly.

"What are you going to say?"

“This weekend…” Ander swallowed. When he got serious, he noticed that Omar was also getting serious. He also seemed very eager to hear the words that would come out of Ander's mouth. "... Can we not meet at my house this weekend?"

Ander finally said. He realized it wasn't that difficult. It was not difficult to ask, it was difficult to tell the lies they would later tell.

Ander awaited Omar's reaction. He felt a little scared when he saw the seriousness of his face grew even more. Although he knew that their friendship would not break for something so simple, he was afraid. Omar's thought of having a false opinion about himself terrified Ander.

"What happened?" Omar suddenly asked. It was as if some things had settled in his head. Ander's strange behavior yesterday seemed to have made sense.

Or Omar was too skeptical. Although he did not want to reveal this to Ander, he had already asked. He was waiting for his answer.

"Ehh…" Omar became even more suspicious when he saw that Ander was displaying a snooty behavior.

"My mom said the house would not be suitable for the weekend. So we have to meet somewhere else. So if you still want to meet ..."

Omar tried to speak, ignoring his small skeptic. At that moment he felt that there was no point in lowering Ander's energetic state.

"Of course, I want to meet you." The expression on Omar's face relieved Ander. "But not my home either."

Omar had not guessed that Ander would look hopeless so quickly after saying this. Ander was a really depressed child. He was also an impatient child.

Omar approached Ander. He paid attention to be at ear level. He whispered as if to give him a secret.

"That's why I'll show you a secret place."

Ander's eyes grew rapidly. Since he felt a slight warmth in Omar's ear, he immediately put his hand to that ear. When he turned to Omar with a confused look, he thought he didn't understand why he was whispering, even though there was no one around.

"A secret place?" Ander, unlike Omar, spoke very loudly.

"Yes." Omar replied, leaning back during his desk. He continued to speak in a louder and more lively voice.

"I'll show you a secret place. It was my place, but…" Ander's eyes stabled Omar.

"...I think we both could have to that place."

“Okay, our two secret place…” When Ander bowed his head, he hoped the burning sensation on his face was not visible from the outside.

\---

  * **15 November 1991**



One of the things Ander has wanted since he met Omar was happening that day. The teacher was changing the desks of the students.

Ander thought this change would be made according to the names in the class list, as in his old schools. When he came to this school, there was only one empty desk and Ander had settled into it. So he hadn't seen much of the desks changes. He just knew that these desks changes would not be the same as his other schools.

Actually, there was a strange situation in this. The back desks were all full, but no one sat on the formerly empty desk of Ander, which was in the middle. Later, one of his friends - one of the kids who used to be friends - told him how prescriptive his teachers were about the classroom order. Wherever the teacher wanted, the students would sit there.

Ander agreed to be in front of or behind Omar that day, even after a few desks close to him. He just wanted to be closer to him.

But what he wanted didn't happen again.

Omar sat in one of the back desks, again aligned with the other Arab students in the classroom. Ander sat by the window, from the front desk. Between the two, another class of students could officially enter; Such a big gap had been opened.

Ander was very bored to have gotten the opposite of what he had hoped.

"Again, our desks are not close." Ander said wearily. He was sitting on the empty desk right in front of Omar. He continued to speak as he pointed to where his desk was.

"There is even a mountain between us this time."

"Yes." Omar spoke, trying to smile. He was still busy arranging his desk. He continued to speak, being careful to look into Ander's face.

"But your location of the current desk is beautiful. The window's side. You can see outside."

When Omar spoke his words of consolation to Ander, he again felt frustrated at being thrown into the farthest corners of the classroom. The distance between them was wider, as if not far enough from Ander. While Omar was thinking about this, the boy who still knew how to be thankful took action. Omar listened to his voice, which he should have been glad to be still in the same class as Ander. He tried to think more positively.

"By the way, can we return to home tog-"

"It is my desk." A voice interrupted Ander's speech.

When Ander and Omar turned their heads synchronously in the direction of the sound, they realized that they knew the incoming person. In fact, this person used to sit in the back of Ander. It was Gil. Apparently he would now sit in front of Omar.

"Get out of my desk."

Ander had obediently left Gil's desk. Not wanting to get away from Omar, he couldn't get too far from the line, and he heard Gil's breathing in a squeeze. For some reason, his attitudes got on his nerves.

"Let's go outside."

When Omar made this offer, he quickly pulled away from Ander's arm. He wanted to get away with that ordinary Ander as soon as possible. He had seen an unusual stretch on Gil. Moreover, despite seeing Ander had been hanging out with them in a group before, their friendship was suddenly over. And Omar had not asked Ander clearly why this happened. He already knew that Ander was bored with that friends.

But he also knew that Omar had a side of his concern, that friendship broke down. He was trying not to think about it too much.

\---

Ander was returning home with Omar after school. He had offered to show him around his house and would show him the window where his room was. He said that if he wants to communicate with him tomorrow, he can use that window.

Omar asked why they didn't contact the door directly. And that was really a logical question.

Ander took a long time to come up with the lies that were perfectly reasonable at that moment. But when he finally said that his family's friends would come and that they didn't like being disturbed, he convinced Omar.

In fact, this lie did not even convince Ander himself. Then he persuaded him to communicate through the window.

If the curtains were open and he saw Ander inside, he should hit the window. But he said that if the curtains are closed and he cannot see him inside, he can leave notes on the flowerpots in front of the window.

When Omar asked what would happen if he couldn't see those notes, Ander replied:

"There's already a paper there, Omar. I can see it almost from all over the room. It writes a text that my mother thinks flowers will come out early because of her superstitions. You just have to fold that paper in half to show you are here."

Omar also had some superstitions. It wasn't like black cats or under stairs. They were the kind of superstitions that got into the brains of children raised in Muslim families, but he did too. And when he thought it might be disrespectful if he folded that sheet of paper, Ander felt it was the first time that he was thinking so opposed to him.

"It doesn't matter, Omar. Just do what I say."

Ander somehow persuaded Omar to fold that paper. Now all that remained was to look forward to the next day.

\---

  * **16 November 1991**



Ander paid particular attention to the fact that the door to his room was closed that day. When he left his room for breakfast, when his mother or father called him, he made sure the door was closed.

Normally, his father stayed at home in the early hours when he was supposed to go to another town. This situation made it difficult for Ander to leave the house.

In fact, he gave Omar two options yesterday, as he was used to his father changing plans at the last minute. So he was both comfortable and uncomfortable same time.

"Click on the window or fold the paper."

It was like a medieval communication system. And that made Ander happy.

Ander was happy even with this simple password formed between them. It's the only thing the two know. In addition, the place where they would go that day would be their secret place.

Ander was in complete childish happiness and excitement. He thought he felt it all to the fullest.

He left a small gap in his curtain, but it was very difficult to see if the paper was folded through this gap. He also told Omar that that paper was visible from all over his room. With this curtain closed, it was impossible. Also, when he's out of his room, he couldn't often go to his room to check behind his curtain, his father was a rather skeptical man.

As the clock wandered towards noon, Ander had only come to his room twice. On his third visit, he finally saw the paper folded. This was the sign that said he had to go outside.

He first looked around the window. She wanted to check if Omar was out of the house. When he couldn't see him around, he assumed he was waiting among the trees he mentioned yesterday. No one knew why Omar still did not suspect Ander's lies despite doing so many secret things.

Maybe they were too children, maybe they had too much trust in each other. Either way, it was a fact that Omar did not go against what Ander said.

And Ander had to leave the house as soon as possible.

Until then, he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of an excuse to get out of the house. Although he said he wanted to go to the grocery store, his parents weren't shopping in this town and even they brought the junk food Ander wanted. The grocery excuse wouldn't work as well as time. If he told a friend that he was leaving, the situation might have been worse than it was a few days ago, and he did not want to see his father worse.

What if he sneaks out of the house?

He could do that. But he thought it was a big risk. He wasn't sure if he could do that. But if he could, he could just get out of the house this way.

It could come out of the window. The distance between the ground and the window was shorter than Ander's current height. Therefore, he could easily use the window as his way out. His mother could even complicate him in this regard. After Ander left the house, she closed his window so his father wouldn't know anything.

That day his mother played a serious role in the meeting of Omar and Ander. She would do this many times afterwards.

Ander would sneak out of the house, Azucena would protect him.

These were invaluable years for Ander, whether it was a few years or a time that could be quickly forgotten. For Ander, his mother's help had no reward. It was the same for Omar too.

The more of a problem Ander's father was to them, the more Ander's mother was a support.

Neither of them would like to lose that support for a long time. In fact, if they had such a chance, they wouldn't want to lose her forever.

\---

Ander was following Omar's back. There was a couple of steps distance between them. Despite walking on the asphalt road, the number of cars passing by was almost nonexistent. Also, that asphalt road was made worse than Ander thought. The road close to the school was fine, but the road towards the exit of the town was a disaster.

When they were traveling by car, he didn't remember why he didn't pay attention to this asphalt road. Most likely, he hadn't paid attention to what the road was like because he was quite grumpy since they got this place.

Although their goal was to go to the secret place, they were moving rather slowly as Omar started to talk about the town on the way. They often looked at the houses and buildings around them.

Ander realized that Omar was a really good speaker. Moreover, if Omar had been anybody else, he wouldn't have listened to many of those long talks. He listened to his as if everything depended on his speeches.

Ander looked at the huge building next to him, in a moment that Omar was silent. Apparently, one of the things he did not pay attention to while driving was this building. It was a huge building that was impossible to go unnoticed. And its exterior looked truly extraordinary. This town was not as small as he thought it was.

"What does this place do?" Ander, who standing at the same line as the building, asked.

Omar understood when he heard the question that Ander was behind. As he took a few steps towards him, he turned where Ander stared his curious gaze.

"Are you asking about the building?" When Omar asked this question, they were both looking at the building.

"Yes." Ander was examining the vast soulless building as if he fascinated.

"An old tobacco factory... They closed it a few years ago."

Ander asked quickly.

"Why?"

Omar curled his lips. He was still facing the building.

"I don't know." He hesitated a little. He turned his head to Ander and continued to speak.

"Many Arabs who lived here at that time were working in this building, so I know it was a factory. When it was closed, people made quite a fuss. But I don't know why."

Ander likewise turned his head to Omar.

"Were there any people you knew, among the employees?"

"Several people." Omar continued to speak as he walked a few steps down the paved road to continue.

"But they're not here anymore."

"Where are they?"

Omar was back on his own thoughts. He asked this question to his mother a few years ago. The reply he received was the same as Omar gave to Ander.

"They didn't tell anyone where they were going. I hope they're in a good place."

\---

They had come to an abandoned house. A small abandoned house with three rooms.

There were not many items in it. But a few sofas were left in it. Ander chose to move to the room Omar pointed to, as he saw the bugs hovering over those sofas.

That room was the least visible to humans. It had one window and was facing the mountain. If someone was not crossing the mountain at that moment, they would not have a chance to be caught.

They could easily be hidden even if someone passed by the mountain. Even if they made sounds, people would think that sound belonged to animals.

Although Ander had thought of such possibilities, he did not tell Omar. He didn't ask why he chose this room, either. He had just adapted to him and had given himself the reasons for choosing that room.

An abandoned, lonely house had become their secret place.

\---

"When will you let go of that notebook?"

Ander was watching Omar, hand on his chin. He was looking at what he had taken out of the bag he brought with him. And he had seen that poetry notebook again, as if he hadn't had enough trouble at school. Ander continued to speak, when Omar only laughed in response. His voice was hoarse as he closed his mouth a little with his hand.

"Sometimes it feels like you care more about that notebook than me."

Ander wanted to hide his face because he thought what he said was embarrassing. As he put his hands to his cheeks at the same time, he heard Omar speaking.

"I think you should thank for not bringing my textbooks."

Omar was smiling at what he said. Ander was much more relaxed as he smiled evasively.

"Also..." Omar seemed to be searching for something as he went through his poetry notebook. He continued to speak as he looked up at Ander from his head. "...there is something I want to ask you."

When he felt Omar was taking on a seriousness, he became serious in Ander. He pulled his hands from his face and straightened his body.

"What?"

Omar did not understand why he was hesitant as he bit his lips. He didn't want to belabor the point, he asked directly.

"Do you love flowers?"

Ander smiled clumsily. He didn't understand why he said that. He did not understand where he had understood this.

"What are you saying?"

Omar handed the page he opened in his poetry notebook to Ander.

"I noticed it yesterday. I actually noticed it before, but ... It drew my attention especially yesterday. Most of your poems contain the word flower or flower types." As he turned the pages, he showed Ander the words he had marked. Ander didn't even realize he was doing this. Omar continued to speak as he looked at the notebook in an odd way.

"Are you interested in flowers?"

Ander felt at that moment that a real intimacy had been revealed. He felt the emergence of a flaw, a feature that should not have been. He and Omar tried to hide his face again as he involuntarily pulled back from his seat.

"Where are you getting that ideas from? I don't understand."

Looking at Ander, Omar thought he was wrong. He felt he was doing mistake, thinking wrong.

"Are you not interested... with flowers...?"

Hearing the innocent attitude in Omar's voice at that moment, Ander didn't know why he was ashamed of him.

Using his hands at his face, he answered Omar's childish question.

"A little. Just a little. I'm interested."

As Omar displayed his triumphal smile, he eagerly pulled the notebook from Ander.

"Just as I expected." When he instantly took advantage of Ander's emptiness and lay down on the pillow with his head on his knees, he was shuffling through the pages in the notebook.

Ander suddenly didn't know how to feel when he saw Omar's head on his knees. He was sure to feel the sudden warmth in his face and body. The warmth Omar experienced when he felt his body near him.

"Tell me. Why are you interested in flowers?"

Ander exhaled tightly. He knew that Omar could not oppose him from his current position, from his current gaze. He had begun to tell before long.

"My mother is actually interested in flowers. I just saw it from her and it caught my attention. That's all."

Omar raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Are you sure?" He moved his head, Ander's head on his knees. "You can be honest with me. I'm not the one to judge a boy because he loves flowers."

Ander smiled. Omar's ability to read through was still there. This ability had captivated him again and made him happy. Ander felt his tongue dissolve.

"My mother is really fond of flowers. She has a lot of books about them. About plants, how they will grow. Then one day I came across a different book among those books. It was not actually a book. It was like a kind of notebook. The pages are made of nylon. One with dried flowers in them. The notebook first drew my attention there. Its colors, beauty... I don't know. I was just very impressed. If we were meeting at that time, the word flower would surely be behind everything I said. But... "

The smile on Ander's face faded slowly. When Omar noticed this, he lifted his head slightly from Ander's knees.

"But..."

Ander let out a deep sigh.

"While I was walking around with my friends back then, they made fun of me when I told them that the pink orchids I saw on the road were beautiful and that I wanted to collect them, and they said me I was acting like a girl. I decided not to talk anymore about flowers."

There was a long silence between them. When Omar didn't say anything, Ander didn't continue to speak.

When Omar put his head on Ander's knees again, he prepared to speak.

"Your mother's notebook about flowers. I'd like you to show it to me as well. If you do not mind?"

Ander felt unspeakable happiness when surprised by what Omar said. He felt a happiness that brought people to the top of the clouds, made people feel flying in the sky, causing strange effects on people's bodies.

He felt that Omar really made him happy. And he ignored his other feelings for the childish's heart.

"Of course. I'll bring it tomorrow."

This phrase -promise- is what made them come back to that secret place tomorrow.

\---

  * **17 November 1991**



Omar thought that he had learned Ander's a true trait. He thought he was learning something that he really loved. Because he saw Ander's gaze of those dry, lifeless flowers. He had never seen him staring so vividly before.

In fact, Ander was looking at Omar just like that way too.

He saw the happiness he experienced when he explained the meaning of the flowers and what he knew about them. He saw the pure happiness and pleasure in his face. And unlike Ander, Omar loved his interests -as opposed to Ander's dislike of poetry. He loved the flowers very much.

Maybe most people liked flowers. They said they were beautiful creatures and could be enchanted by their appearance. But Omar's love would not be as simple as theirs. There would be no ordinary like.

After all, those flowers were living, lifeless, dry beings that were admired by Ander.

And although the flowers in that notebook lost their original color, lost their enthusiasm and life, those flowers for Omar were a masterpiece.

Those flowers were Ander's interest, after all.

"I also love the lively state of them." When he spoke, Omar looked at the page shown by Ander. He sought the name of the flower so as not to be mistaken at first glance. Pansy. Omar had seen these flowers before.

"I know their vivid state. They are tarnished flowers..." He didn't even realize that he was muttering.

Ander asked when he turned his strange gaze to Omar.

"What? Is tarnished?"

Although Omar did not think he was saying anything wrong - he clearly said the right thing for himself - he started speaking quickly to regain himself.

"I call them that. Although the color in their middle is white, because their original color is different. Because they are stained by white."

Ander wanted to calm Omar while smiling at Omar's quick speeches. His way of asking questions made him think he was misunderstanding him.

"Ok, I got it. You don't need to explain any more." Ander turned back a few pages. He pointed to the pale white tulips and continued to speak. "Don't they look like tarnished too? Because they dried."

Omar looked at the dried tulips and he muttered.

"A little."

Ander continued to speak with a smile to him.

"But they are actually white. Pure white."

"The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here. Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in." Omar muttered the lines of the poem that came to his mind.

"What?" Ander spoke while looking at him strangely. "I don't understand what you're saying again."

"It was written in one of your poems in the notebook: The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here. Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in."

When Ander returned to the notebook of dried flowers before him, he started turning the pages quickly. He spoke when he began to a long face clearly.

"You attribute our every speech to poems. You talk about them more than me."

Ander spoke what he said just like Omar had just spoken fast.

"What's that got to do with it now?" Omar said, trying to hide the redness of his face. It was a little further away from where Ander was.

"You attribute everything I say to poetry." Ander spoke, showing even more sullen face.

"Then listen to what I will say next." Omar spoke loudly. "I also love flowers. Tulips."

Ander looked at him as if he had said something impressive.

"I especially like white tulips. That's why I thought of that poem."

When Omar failed to hide his face, he realized that he could not look at Ander and continued to speak. His voice was quite low.

"I would also thank you for writing this poem."

This time, it was Ander who was ashamed, so it was his turn to hide his face.

\---

  * **18 November 1991**



Omar had been coming to school early since last week.

He was used to waking up early in the morning. Since his father was like an alarm clock, he would wake up in Omar when he woke up. This would coincide with the hours when the sun did not rise yet.

But Omar didn't go to school early. Actually, he did that a few years ago. He came to school early, settled in his desk before anyone else. He thought it was very good behavior at the time. But one of those days he was scolded by the teachers. He told Omar that he came to class early and got dirty. And after what that teacher said, the students started to make fun of him, saying "Ball of dirt".

Omar was moving in sync with the students so that his presence at school would not be noticed again. He was adjusting to them so that they wouldn't care about his presence or see him.

Ander had also changed this psychology of him. And the habit of coming and going to school.

He didn't know if Ander was going to come to school early. He hadn't asked him anything about it before.

He wanted to get things done early because he hadn't come to school for five days last Monday. He had arrived early to find the teacher and get his homework and lessons from him last week. His teacher at the time did not have such heavy words as a few years ago. Moreover, this teacher was not speaking. This teacher was hitting directly.

Omar didn't know which one was worse. Verbal or physical beating?

In fact, these also seemed to have disappeared when Ander entered his life.

Ander was very good for Omar. As a friend, as any person. He had helped him correct his life, prevented the people around him from humiliating him, made him more honest with himself.

Maybe that's why he felt weird around him.

He wanted to be closer to him, sit next to him, talk to him for hours, purify his bad thoughts, be good for him. Because he felt indebted to him.

Perhaps this feeling was not that simple.

Would Omar think that every person he felt indebted had a beautiful face?  
Would he think how beautiful the eyes of every person he felt indebted?  
Would he want to stay with every indebted person indefinitely?

Ander was different. He was very different. He was different for him.

He realized this better that Monday, when Ander was not in school.

He realized how used to his presence that Monday.

\---

  * _**1 February 1997**_



_He was unsure whether to hit the window or not._

_He had been waiting in front of the room for minutes, but all he did was wait. It was as if he forgot how to move his hand or body._

_He was staring at the pots. He was staring at the little tulips trying to sprout. The little look he had with these tulips was making his minutes pass quickly._

_Omar was surprised when he saw the image of Ander, who suddenly appeared in the window. Now he couldn't go away without doing anything, even if he wanted to. He was caught._

_He waited unresponsively until the window opened slowly and Ander took his head out of there._

_"My father is not home today." Although Ander spoke in an ordinary voice, Omar could see the fatigue on his face. Although his voice could not be understood, it was enough for Omar to look at his face. "Go inside."_

_Omar knew instantly that he had to go to the door. He came to the doorway as he strode to the opposite side of Ander's room._

_Unable to even see that that door was open, Omar did not even realize when he entered. Ander was already there when he appeared at the door. He quickly pulled him in by his hand's wrist._

_When Ander pushed the door shut with his foot, without looking at Omar's face, he grasped his face with both hands. Omar had to adapt without knowing which of his quick moves would surprise him._

_Ander's lips were suddenly fixed to his lips. Although his lip movements that he felt slowly and gently helped him to adapt, they suddenly started to accelerate. They were starting to move fast and hard._

_Omar felt unable to keep up with the kissing that continued so hard that it hurt him. He was holding what he was trying to hide behind with both hands. He released one of his two hands and placed it on Ander's chest._

_He had realized that this was not a desire. He felt that these rapid movements were not caused by a desire._

_Omar couldn't keep their distance, but he kept distance between his lips. That opened up had the opportunity to speak at that tiny distance._

_"Is there a problem?"_

_It was the only thing he could ask as a thousand things crossed his mind._

_"Is it a problem if I want to fuck you?"_

_Omar noticed something in Ander's eyes that he could not understand. Although he liked this deep appetite, it hurt him. He had to breathe in order for him to feel pleasure. And this was far from Ander's normal self._

_"Can't we at least do it in bed?"_

_Omar tried to speak in a low but passionate voice. He was sure his voice was not as passionate as he thought._

_"What difference does it make?"_

_The fact that Ander said this didn't scare him, but the way he said it was pretty scary. That way frightened Omar. As if he didn't care to make love to Omar at that moment. As if he was anybody else under at that moment. As if he didn't care about anything at that moment._

_"I want to do it and finish as soon as possible."_

_Omar could break into this sentence. He could be hurt by this sentence. But he tried to reassure himself, thinking Ander said that because he feared that his father might arrive early._

_Ander quickly stripped off his shirt. He kissed Omar hard and fast, so as not to leave a gap between them. He didn't care that he fell to the ground when he suddenly pushed Omar to the ground. With his whole body, he poured over his falling body. He didn't care if Omar wanted to talk for a few minutes, wanted to stop himself._

_For only a moment his eyes were shifted elsewhere. He was looking at an object he thought had fallen with Omar. A flower bouquet._

_Ander separated his lips from Omar. He raised his head a little. He asked, looking at the bouquet of flowers. There was no trace of any emotion in his voice._

_"What are these?"_

_Until then, Omar could not react for a long time to his sudden hesitation and asking questions while trying to get used to Ander's hard desires. He spoke in a whisper when he turned his head to where Ander turned._

_"Pansies." he put his hand on the ground to Ander's face. He was behaving in a way that he thought he could answer his harsh passion. He didn't want Ander to be disappointed._

_"I bought them for you." he said, trying to smile. His hand was moving slowly across Ander's face._

_"I wanted to forgive myself for being you mad at me lately."_

_Ander tried to smile just like Omar. No matter how much he wanted to smile at that moment, he wanted to smile against Omar, but he couldn't do it. He started speaking in his broken voice._

_"You should have brought white tulips for this." He moved to bury his face in Omar's neck. "Not tarnished flowers..."_

_Although Omar could not see Ander's face, he could feel it. He could feel his neck getting wet._

_"I brought those flowers because you loved them." Omar moved a little. He tried to ask in an inquiring tone. However, he knew how much he loved those flowers. "You love those flowers, don't you?"_

_Ander murmured._

_"I love."_

_Trying to hug Omar's body lying on the ground, Ander began to ask for forgiveness with his fragile voice._

_"Sorry... I'm a stupid... We are not like them... You are not just a sex object... You are not like my mother... We are not like them... I'm sorry..."_

_Omar did not understand what was happening, but he covered his body. He hugged his body and his words._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here. Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in."**  
>  -Tulips by Sylvia Plath
> 
> I was finally able to write a chapter on flowers. Finally...  
> The reason the last few chapters are longer than the previous 11 chapters is that I want to move forward quickly. My plan is not just to close the gap between 2004 and 1991, but to write more. If you share your thoughts on this matter, you would help me for the following chapters.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	15. Possibility and Impossibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read this story. The next update will take a long time. I'm sorry about that already!
> 
> Pay attention to the DATES!

  * **27 October 2004**



Omar didn't know that Ander opened his eyes. He didn't know when he had noticed that he was touching his face. It was miraculous for him that he didn't notice the soft skin he touched under his hand. Or it was a miracle that someone's hand touched his skin so that Omar didn't go crazy. But something happened that led Omar from that miracle moment to reality. He had just seen Guzman a few steps closer to him, and he again remembered that people's touch disgusted him. The miracle time was thus over.

He quickly pushed -threw- Ander's head to the ground, which was on his knees at that moment.

He heard the groan coming out of Ander's mouth. Although he couldn't get as far from his body as he wanted, there was enough space between them for Omar to stand up. And when he got up, he soon realized that Christian was taking a few steps towards them. Omar couldn't care about this, he had to control what was happening around him.

He had to comprehend what he was going through.

Half an hour ago, while they were asleep in Omar's room, Nano's men had forced Ander out of the room, and Omar had followed them. As soon as Nano clearly detained those two; Omar actually realized that Nano was not the person who caused delivery day to go awry. He realized that he believed blindly what Guzman was saying, and that Nano would never actually betray them for whatever reason.

He wanted to beat himself for his stupidity. How could he commit such a stupid act? Moreover, Ander had given Guzman too much money. Too much money that Omar could not give Ander back in a short time.

He didn't know how to get out of this despicable situation. He felt humiliated and betrayed one after another.

He would never collaborate with Nano again. He would never again cooperate with someone who hurt Ander to harm himself. And Guzman... He didn't even want to see his face. But he had to learn the truth.

His relationship with his business partners was over for him.

When he turned his back, he saw a huge crowd of people in front of the big door. Everyone in Nano's group, except Christian, were there. There was a woman in front of them - this must have been Rebeka - and a man -Nano's brother.

They were talking very calmly. Omar didn't even realize when they got there - out. Even the last thing he remembered was the strokes to Ander. It was best not to think about it, though he hadn't forgotten the hands that held him. He would not bear that dirty feeling. And it didn't help Omar at all, knowing that he _-Ander-_ was the one who actually took away the dirty feeling he felt in his mind, his body. The thought of Ander being harmed took away everything he felt. Ander's thought of being hurt beacuse of him took away everything he felt.

No matter how much Omar didn't want to admit, maybe Ander could really fix him. He could heal him. He could make him forget about his dirty past. And Omar could easily touch people as before. He could touch Ander with peace of mind as before.

He knew that even these childish thoughts were feeling - coming back - because of him. That's how he felt because of the man who was face of bleeding on the ground at that moment. Childhood friend or childhood sweetheart. Omar hoped his entire past would consist of that man. So he could be cleaner and he wouldn't have that dirty past.

He thought that there was no point in getting lost in the reality of the miraculous event he had just felt. He had to keep examining what was happening around him and stop being a pitiful.

He should have taken his eyes off the man on the ground. And he did so.

When he realized he was fully awakened to reality, he noticed a slight tremor in his knees. Although he assumed that his legs were aching from the position in which he was just sitting, he actually felt his knees trembling due to the stab wound in his stomach. As if it wasn't enough that he fell on his wound when Nano hit him, Omar forgot the existence of his wound and frantically pressed himself on the ground when he focused on his face. He seemed to have no choice but to hope that the stitches had not been opened. And his body was telling him exactly the opposite.

When he saw Guzman's left side approaching him, he had to forget the existence of his wound again. Whether Guzman noticed his suffering state, he seemed to be gently reaching out to Omar. But he took a few steps back and yelled.

"Don't! Don't you dare touch me." His voice, which he wished threatening to be heard, was breathless. It was weak and pale. Moreover, he could not show his anger as much as he wanted. His wound was really sore.

Omar was afraid to throw his hand on his wound. It was so stinging that he thought this feeling would increase when he touched it.

"Okay! .... Okay ... Take it easy. I won't touch you." Guzman spoke quickly. He made several movements to calm him down as he withdrew his hands from Omar.

"But... Please... let me explain." When Guzman took a few steps back, he spoke again.

"What are you going to explain, you liar jerk?! You fooled me." Omar's voice was loud at first, then weakened and choked. He almost couldn't say the last sentence. This might make him look sad, but all he felt was anger.

"Not so. Please... Let me explain."

It was clear from Guzman's voice, his face, how much he regretted all of his actions. Omar could see them. He didn't want to take refuge in his mercy or the same stupidity. Omar wanted to made to feel him the same humiliation he felt. But no one who had not been betrayed could understand that feeling.

"Yes, not so... Not so because you just did not fool me! You fooled my friend too!"

Calling Ander 'friend' made Omar feel weird. Not so long ago they stopped being everything for each other. No matter how much Omar consoled himself with this, he knew how much he needed him. He knew that he needs to being everything for each other. As a friend, as a man in love. _And for other things._

"I'm sorry, Omar. I wanted to tell you but-"

"One apology is not enough, you jerk." It was Ander who interrupted Guzman's speech.

Omar's head returned to where Ander's frail voice came from. He was still on the ground and was sitting on his knees. Apart from seeing how dirty his clothes were, Omar saw that his hair was also dirty. _His silky soft hair._

When Omar looked at him, he didn't know that the anger on his face had disappeared. He was just staring at Ander. He didn't need to feel any emotions, every element of his body was staring at Ander.

While he was only focused on Ander, Omar realized that there was someone trying to raise him up next to him. Christian. He suddenly got angry and stepped towards them and started speaking with gestures.

"What do you think you are doing? Get your hand off him right away."

Christian reflexively withdrew himself.

"I'm just trying to help him, Omar."

Omar thought he might go crazy. No longer knew who was on whose side. But that guy wasn't exactly leaving Nano's ass, when did he argument with Nano or find the courage to betray Nano and his group?

Despite these, Ander was the person who did not understand the events the most. Something was happening around him and Ander was keeping up with them. This included him just half-hour ago being beaten. He was just keeping up with events. But he clearly understood that Guzman was taking his money and probably keeping it to himself. Ander wanted to feel angry. He knew it was for Omar, not for himself. He was angry that they had fooled him, betrayed him. And Ander still remembered; Omar just touched him and he touched Omar. When his hope is alive, Ander didn't care about the wounds on his face or the pain in his body and he couldn't feel angry.

For Omar, it was the opposite. Christian was holding Ander under his arms, and Omar was too weak to attack anyone. Too weak to react to anyone. So he was afraid, hopeless and angry at the same time. If he had looked to his right he would have seen his whole group, but his eyes were only occupied by two men.

"Omar..." Guzman called out as he approached him. "Christian is also on our side. You can trust him."

If Omar was in any other situation, he could have made fun of Guzman's words. He could have made fun of him if his body hadn't ached or felt more comfortable. But he just kept getting angry, repeating what he said.

"Trust? Our side?"

There was an expression on Omar's face that showed disgust at him. He could clearly show his anger in this way. 

"Which side are you talking about? Who are we?"

"He's talking about us!" The person who answered Omar's question was Rebeka, who was moving in from the front door.

When there was a real silence around, Rebeka stood beside Guzman. She was looking at him to make it clear that he was talking to Omar.

"We." She gestured to Guzman and herself. "We work together. More precisely, we worked."

The woman, putting her arm on Guzman's shoulder, continued to speak, looking at Omar. Her voice was quieter and gentler than just before.

"Don't be so angry with him... he had to."

Omar frowned. He straightened his shoulder. It was annoying for him to challenge two people.

"He had to? He had to fool me and betray me?"

Rebeka set aside her self-assured attitude and gave Guzman a strange glance. As if she was angry with him.

"No. Of course, not so. I tried to persuade him to tell you, but he chose this way."

She pulled her arm from Guzman's shoulder. She took a deep breath. As she put her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she looked at Guzman, and continued to speak - as if she was her interlocutor.

"He apparently likes to be the hated man."

"I don't understand any shit. Tell it straight." This time it was Ander who interrupted the conversation, standing up with support from Christian's shoulder.

When Omar turned his eyes to Ander, it seemed that his feet had moved towards him without his control. Although his standing with the support of Christian pissed him off, he couldn't help him - he couldn't touch him.

Rebeka looked at Guzman for a moment. She wanted to see if he would tell what had happened. When she realized that he would obviously not make such a move, she began to speak.

"That day, on the day of delivery, I stole all the goods from the truck. And Guzman asked me to do this."

Most of all, he was angry with himself when Omar's hand unintentionally became a punch. He was not such a stupid person. Omar was not such a stupid person, how he did not realizeall of those?

_You turned with a stupid person for taking that guy here._

_You took that man into this building and you couldn't care about anything else. You are a fool!_

Omar felt the cursing that came out of his mouth for Guzman, actually he was saying to himself. Spilled words were spoken to the voice within him. And meanwhile, Rebeka continued to speak.

"I took all your goods and gave all of them you had to give. So I took the money and gave it all to Guzman."

"That bastard took my money too." Ander spoke again.

Omar could tell he was angry about him. He could say that without looking at him, without seeing the expression on his face. No matter how much time passed, he could tell how he was feeling from his tone of voice.

"Yeah..." Rebeka agreed. She answered Ander with a timid expression. "...He also gave me some of your money."

"What?" Omar, who was thoroughly confused, shouted. He still hadn't learned that he should not raise his voice. His wound was aching.

Rebeka knew things were confusing for her, so she looked at Guzman before speaking again. He seem to had quite the intention of talking this time.

"She gave me all the money we would get from the delivery and asked for money in return. I said I couldn't give that money, but-"

"I don't do business without money." 

Her eyes turned to Guzman when they were on Omar, Ander, and Christian. She continued to speak. More quietly.

"Although it is my friend's husband who wanted this from me."

"What did you say?" Omar shouted as he took a few steps towards Rebeka and Guzman.

His eyes were on the ground as he was completely afraid of making eye contact with Omar. Although the topic being discussed was entirely his own, he felt as if he was far from all of these topics.

"My wife is her close friend."

The atmosphere was quiet when Omar turned his confused gaze to Guzman - it was tense.

"She called me and said that now Guzman must come back home. If she hadn't called me, I wouldn't have interrupted your work that day."

Omar approached Guzman. He spoke in a low voice to his ear.

"So you knew her from the very beginning." Omar spoke with reference to Rebeka.

Guzman just shook his head in response.

He didn't like knowing that he even knew Rebeka from the very beginning, feeling deceived even about it. Omar even had things he kept hiding about Ander, but only a small part of it was true. He had told Guzman that he was his childhood friend. Guzman, on the other hand, seemed like everything known about himself consists of lies. At least Omar knew he had a wife. He knew that he had a wife who was just like Omar - Arab - even learning Arabic for that wife.

_Maybe that is also lie what he said about his wife._

Omar knew, at least, that he was not lying about Arabic. He had heard over and over again how well he spoke Arabic.

Omar was going to be harsh just because he wanted the conversation to be between the two. His words and voice would be heard harsh and furious.

"So... Your wife called you and said come back home, so you lied to us and stole our money because of that?! Are you kidding me?!" He was yelling, emphasizing every word.

"Why are you into this shit if you're going to come back home every time your wife calls you?! Why did you put the blame on Nano? Why did you fool me?"

Omar felt himself staggering a few steps back as his voice weakened. One of the reasons he suffered this knife pain was his business partner. They had killed someone because of him. When he remembered this he shouted, trying to keep his anger fresh - he was quite tired.

"Did you need money enough to stab me, enough to kill a man? What did I do to you and you make me experience this damn knife pain?"

Guzman's answer to Omar's questions was not satisfactory for him. He didn't open his mouth. He knew that Omar was right to be angry with him, and he knew he would regret that much, but he needed that money and bought it. He deserved every punishment in return, at least he knew he deserved it. But wouldn't everyone do the same if he were in his place? Maybe Omar wouldn't. That's why he was so angry with him.

"The stabbing event is not his fault. You don't have to hold him accountable for this." Rebeka intervened. She was the only one who could defend Guzman with everything at that moment. Also, that stabbing and a dead man was entirely Rebeka's fault.

"It was obviously my fault. I could not direct my men correctly, fortunately they did not use guns."

"You stupid bitch!" Ander pulled power from Christian's shoulder and screamed away from her. 

"Do you know how much he suffered, no, he still suffer? Do you know how hard they had to cover his wound?"

Ander felt the blood in his mouth begin to flow even more when he spoke as he shouted against Rebeka. He didn't care about it. And when he finally realized there was no point shouting at that woman, he turned to Guzman.

"And you! Son of a bitch..." He was right next to Guzman. He caught his ear just like Omar. "...You betrayed him."

"I swear, I didn't mean it." 

Guzman's pleading voice reminded Ander of himself, his pain over what he had done before. Guzman had betrayed his own business partner, Ander had betrayed his childhood friend -sweetheat. He could feel his regret, but seeing his face made him angry. It was as if he could see the mistakes he made when he looked into his face.

He was so full of anger that when his hand became a punch, it felt like he would hit his own face. Until he heard the sound of something falling to the ground.

Ander could see the body on the ground without turning his head where the sound was coming from. Omar's body.

What happened next was completely dark and murky for Ander, just like Omar.

People were gathering around Omar's body, which fell to the ground. While they were trying to figure out what the problem was, Ander was trying to communicate with Omar. He was trying to reach out to him in the crowd. In fact, he could have broken through the community of people and he could reach out to Omar, but he was pretty weak.

Ander's body wanted to fall to the ground, just like Omar. At least it could have fallen to the ground to get some rest. But Ander's body did not have a deep stab wound like Omar's. And then he saw that Omar's shirt was bloody.

His wound was opened. The stitches on his wound were teared. Even though it had withstood so much pressure, so much blows and bad conditions, anymore the stitches on his wound were teared. Ander fell to his knees just as he couldn't imagine how much that kind of wound could hurt.

Christian must have seen that he was on his knees when he went over to Ander. To support him and made to stand up. However, Ander ignored his presence and tried to move towards Omar's body on his knees.

His body should not have been above this mud, this dirt. His body should not have been injured at all. He had done nothing to deserve this.

Ander seemed to be realizing that everything had gotten so bad when he was caught up in the thoughts in his mind, when he wanted to set him free and eradicate his suffering.

Although Ander actually adhered to only what he went through every day after that day... it felt as if the stones thrown at Omar at that day hit his own body.

\---

  * _**21 December 1997**_



_He could die from the shame of his naked body._

_While the cold offers a strange comfort to his body; the blows he received presented a fatal discomfort._

_He could die from blows to his naked body. He could die from the bleeding wounds inflicted by those blows. He could die from the fire that formed on his body. But all these aside; he could die from the pain in his heart._

_The pain of being betrayed. The pain of losing friend, memories and love. There was no physical equivalent to this. Nothing could express the pain of losing him._

_Whereas how naive he was; He believed he could escape from his father. He believed that he would strive for the life they would live together that he offered him. He believed that he would not be afraid of being gay. He believed that he would not be afraid that he loved a man. He really believed he was someone to protect him. He believed he really loved him._

_Omar let the tears run down his eyes, thinking of his stupidities._

_Still... Not being able to hate him in spite of all this, it is stupid. He just hated himself. He hated his own stupidity. He hated himself ever since he knew he couldn't hate Ander._

_People were dragging his naked body on the asphalt road. He thought how far he had walked with him on that asphalt road. More tears rolled down his cheeks._

_He had stopped begging anymore. He was used to their torment anymore._

_And he understood that when the hardness of the asphalt road was over, it turned into a soil road. He was trying to ignore the wet soil that got into his mouth and the mud clinging to his body. At least it wasn't as hard and painful as the asphalt road. Until people started throwing stones at his body._

_Getting stoned._

_People humiliated and inflicted more pain on him each time. Each time they made Omar more regret that they did. But not as much as that moment._

_He was able to protect his head. His hands ... He defended his head with trembling hands. He felt the cold stones touching his naked body hardest. They said that this torture was worse than sleeping with a man - falling in love with a man._

_What unscrupulousness._

_"If you dare to touch Ander, you pay the price."_

_"Ander. An...der..."_

_The voices became clear with the name he heard._

_"How did you touch him?"_

_He touched me too._

_"How did you hurt him?"_

_I did not do such a thing. I can't hurt him._

_"Bastard fag!"_

_I'm not like that. I'm not..._

_"Mother murderer!"_

_I did not kill anyone. I do not kill my mother._

_"You tried to poison us by selling drugs. Demon!"_

_I just wanted to get rid of this place. I wanted to go with him... from here. With him._

_"You are also Araps. Human trash!"_

_I did not decide on this. I did not choose to be born this way._

_"You faggot! How many people have you deceived and put into bed?"_

_I did not do it with anyone other than him. Nobody but him..._

_"You sicky jerk!"_

_I'm not sick._

_"Sick! Bastard!"_

_I'm not... I just... I just loved him._

\---

  * **27 October 2004**



Omar's unconscious body had been moved upstairs. This happened minutes after Omar fainted.

When someone other than Ander realized that Omar needed to see a doctor, Rebeka had already started looking for people she knew to do this.

A doctor just wasn't enough for them, they needed a person who wouldn't ask how that wound was. They needed someone who wouldn't ask why Omar didn't go to the hospital. In short, they needed someone to be completely loyal to them.

It wasn't enough for them to just find a doctor. At the same time, Ander had to calm down. They tried to calm Ander by being told that only Rebeka could find such a person.

They also kept telling Ander that Omar would be fine. Sometimes Ander could hear Arabic among these Spanish words. Some of the people in Omar's group were also with him. Ander could not imagine being able to connect with them in a short time. This must have been the talent that Ander acquired in his childhood; to get along well with the Arabs. But Ander didn't think that Omar still had that talent, with which he could understand Ander's feelings. If he could have gone back to his childhood, he would not have seen this pain that Omar suffered from a knife wound. They were not going to experience these. At least they would be together, even if they didn't know they were in love.

Calming seemed unlikely for Ander.

The doctor arrived and he went directly to Omar's room. When he and Omar's unconscious body were alone in the room; Ander, Rebeka, Guzman, Christian and a few Arabs waited outside the door of the room.

Soon, when the doctor left the room, Ander went to Omar's room without asking too many questions so that he could see him right away. There was no need for Ander to ask questions or wait outside to listen to the doctor's advice. They were talking in front of the door, and Ander could hear those conversations clearly.

"...He has to go to a hospital just in case..."

Ander had heard all the doctor's conversation like this. There was even the possibility that his stay here could worsen his wound. The doctor said it was even a miracle that his wound was not inflamed. Ander did not believe in miracles. Maybe he would start believing again.

\---

Ander was sitting in this room in the same way a few days ago. He had been watching Omar's unconscious and pale face a few days ago too. 

He was struggling with the deep feelings that reliving the same things created within him.

He no longer cared about the blows on his own face, but he had to clean that wounds. Also, The doctor who came for Omar had to stitch his eyebrow as well.

Although the left side of his face was particularly hurt, although it hurts to the point where it cannot even put his hand to his face, he didn't care his wounds. He couldn't care for himself as he lay unconscious in front of him.

The door to Omar's closed room was knocked in the evening. When Ander didn't bother to open it, he heard a voice from the outside of the door. Guzman's voice.

"Ander, you're there right?"

Ander heard the question clearly, but did not answer it. Guzman continued to speak, assuming he wouldn't answer.

"We will eat something. Won't you accompany us?"

When Ander didn't answer again, Guzman put his hand to the doorknob. Ander shouted when he heard the slow squeaking sound of the doorknob.

"Don't you dare open the door!"

Guzman instantly let go of the doorknob. He continued to speak in his gentle -begging- voice from outside the door.

"Okay, I won't open the door. But you can't wait hungry like that."

Ander felt his lips dry up a little, but there was no sign of hunger. He could have assumed he was hungry because his morning breakfast was nothing but beating.

"Come on, Ander! That way you cannot support him."

"That is not your business!"

Ander felt his throat ache when he shouted. He seemed to have just noticed the tiny cut when he took his hand there involuntarily. It might have been a big problem for him that he hadn't cleaned it up, but he couldn't care.

Ander closed his eyes for a few minutes when Guzman's persistent demeanor ceased.

\---

When the door was knocked again, Ander felt for a few minutes that he was unconscious. That he could sleep a little.

Ander opened his eyes with grumpy, it was the first time he noticed that the room was cold. He didn't even know where to wash the dirty clothes he was wearing that day. He assumed he had to go into town again.

"I brought something to eat. I'll leave it here."

Ander heard Guzman's voice again. He understood that the man was more stubborn than he thought.

He didn't know if he needed food, but Ander definitely needed some water. So he quickly got up from his seat. When he unwittingly touched the walls of the building, he understood better why the room was cold, the walls were freezing.

Ander knew well what he did not miss the most about this town; its weather. He remembered how harsh and cold the winters had been, as if it happened yesterday. In fact, it was often because of this that people could not start their cars and go to cities. People did not travel much from here in winters. Whereas it was a winter month when Ander left this town.

When he opened the door, Ander took the tray right in front of him.

He knew that if there was no water in it he would have to go down again for water and he wouldn't want to do it.

He spread the water over his lips and drank slowly. He felt a little awake when the dryness on his lips passed.

He sat in the empty space on Omar's matress. He had waited long enough to get his hands on his face. Although he could do that that day, he still thought that touch was not enough. And he told him he missed him. Omar was worried about Ander. These continued to stimulate hope in him. That hope turned into a smile on his face. Ander continued to touch Omar's face.

When he touched his lips, he noticed that it was dried like his own. He moistened his fingers with water from the bottle and rubbed it on his lips.

Then Ander realized his real hunger. He had a long-term hunger for Omar.

Maybe if he tasted his lips for a little bit, this seven-year hunger could be consoled. Maybe his hunger would be satisfied if he touched him with his own lips.

But he knew that when he did these things he would lose his trust completely. Ander would know it, even if he didn't realize it.

Ander would not touch him unintentionally. He would not make to dirt him.

\---

  * _**15 March 1997**_



_"Stop kissing!" Omar, lying under Ander, brought his discomfort with a giggle. "You tickle me."_

_"Be quiet. They will hear you." Ander lifted his head from Omar's body, grinning and speaking in a whisper._

_"Nobody here! And even if there is someone here they will hear your damn kiss, stop it now."_

_Omar, who tried to change his position on Ander's body, laughed. He seemed angry with him with what he said, but he was quite amused by his actions._

_When Ander's face was no longer on Omar's body — when he was not busy kissing him — their faces were very close to each other. The only thing Ander thought -could think- from this distance was to close on his lips. He wanted it to be slow, although they were moving incessant and fast when their close breaths opposing each other. He wanted him to connect to his own movements slowly beneath him, but it was he who accelerated him._

_Ander was lying in one of those old couchs with Omar. They could easily discover each other in that secret place of their own. It was no longer winter. Some of his body was no longer in danger of freezing while part of his body was burning with fire. The weather was hot. Their bodies were hot._

_Ander's mouth occupied only Omar's, while their hands were on each other's body. Things were easy when Ander was on Omar on the narrow couch, but as soon as he lied down to his side, the space became narrow and they had to embrace each other completely._

_Omar's arms moved gently around Ander's body, while Ander wanted to enjoy it, it was Omar who actually made it real. He was running his hands slowly over Ander's hips and groin. Ander continued to kiss Omar even faster with those touches, his hands moving to bring Omar's hips closer to him. His hands were moving faster and harder than his mouth._

_Ander brought Omar's body closer to him - as if it were possible - by the hips. Omar's mouth was completely separated from his own at that moment. When Ander opened his closed eyes to see what had happened, he saw how red was Omar's face and made him forget what he was going to ask._

_But soon, Omar's hand came on his own, he heard his question._

_"Do you want..." He heard Omar taking a deep breath. "...Do you want... to go there?"_

_Ander moved himself closer to him without taking his hand away from his hips. He spoke slowly as he ran his nose to his left shoulder._

_"I just want to enjoy this moment."_

_Ander heard Omar's hoarse voice and breath near his ear._

_"Won't you have enjoy that way?"_

_Ander was still leaning on Omar's shoulder when he started laughing at what Omar said._

_"You already know I have enjoy that way too much."_

_Omar assumed he was lucky that Ander did not see his blushing face cause of both his voice and his words. He moved over his shoulder, just like his lover done. He had a broad shoulder and tougher than Omar's. While that made him more masculine in Omar's eyes, Ander didn't really like what made his shoulders that way._

_"I want it to be like this for today. Okay?" Ander chuckled. "If you don't mind..."_

_Omar tried to speak, ignoring Ander's laughing at him._

_"Whatever you want..."_

\---

  * **28 October 2004**



Ander was already with him when he saw Omar's fidgeting body.

He had slept more comfortably than in the chair, even though the last night sleeping in the empty part of his bed made the aching parts of his body even worse.

He had no complaints as he was close to him, but he annoyed that the room was narrow and the damn table took more space than anything else.

And he could thank that narrow space for being so close to her body at that moment. Still, he preferred to use cursing in that narrow area for his aching body. 

He spoke while sitting on the empty part of the bed watching Omar, who gently opened his eyes. Then he had to focus on being close to him before the bad things he had to endure.

"Good Morning." He was trying to smile. This was an astonishing thing for him as well; to move his face to smile.

He knew it made him happy to open his eyes, but he didn't believe it was the right moment to smile. Smiling as if nothing had happened.

"How do you feel?"

Omar did not see an angry expression on his face, or the gesture that showed his anger just seemed confused. He began to speak without answering Ander's question, perhaps without hearing it.

"What happened to me?"

The smile on Ander's face faded. He let out a deep breath and started talking.

"The stitches placed on the wound are opened." He hesitated. He saw Omar's tired face was closing with his hand. When he looked at Omar's gaze that told him to continue, he decided to continue.

"Your bleeding started again. That woman... Rebe-ka, whatever her name is... there was a doctor she knew, she called him here. He sewed the wound again and he gave me medicine or something like that. So you have been unconscious since yesterday."

Omar combined what happened yesterday in his mind. Although he did not remember everything exactly, he did remember important parts. And he asked directly.

"Are they still here?"

Ander nodded. He started talking again with one of the other important things that came to his mind.

"Nano has left here."

Omar's body trembled for a moment. Ander both saw and felt the slight stirring of the mattress. 

"What do you mean?"

Ander put his hand to his head. He seemed to be poking his head to remember yesterday's events. He continued to speak without taking his hand off his head.

"Rebeka offered him a new job. I guess. She wanted him to work for her or something related to her. So... He left the building with his group. They said they wouldn't come back anymore."

Omar was hiding his face with his hand. So Ander would not see his face and would not understand what he was feeling. According to Omar, Ander could not understand what he was feeling. But he could see the emotional void he fell into, no matter how much he closed his face. Even if Omar hid everything about himself, Ander would have noticed the emotional void Omar lived through. Because he knew him, he knew how much he cared about people around him. Ander knew, although Omar would say otherwise.

He had to open a different topic to get him out of this emotional void. So he could persuade him to think a little different things.

"And. Guzman's group left the building, too."

Omar quickly pulled his hand on his face. He was not surprised that Nano's group was leaving the building, but he was very surprised to hear that Guzman's one was leaving.

"What? When? Didn't you say they didn't go?"

"Guzman is still here, Omar." He had raised his voice a little while saying this.

Omar had to listen to Ander. But to do this, Ander had to intervene. Otherwise, Omar could keep asking him questions, moreover he could stand up and he could make a ridiculous move. Ander did not want this to happen, he did not want to Omar be panic.

"Just his group has left the building. They said that Guzman will no longer be working here, so they said they no longer have a job in this building, also they have been paid. And they're left. But... Guzman, that woman, Christian, and your group are still here."

"I have to talk to them." Omar said when he moved to stand up. The pain he felt in his stomach would not make him stand up, otherwise he did not feel strong enough to stand up.

"No way!" Ander motioned for him to lie back with his hand, without touching him.

"You don't have to be in a hurry to talk to them. They don't look like they're going to leave the building anyway."

Omar reached down on his mattress again. Although he tried to return to his old position where he was lying down, he could not manage.

He began to speak in a low voice as his face contracted from the pain radiating from his stomach.

"What do you mean, they don't look like they're going to leave the building?"

Ander let out a deep breath. Omar's eye contact with him made him nervous, but Omar didn't seem to care much about it. There were other things he was curious about. Ander continued to talk about those things.

"After the doctor left here, a truck came. There were many boxes in the truck, boxes of food and drink, many things like those. Then I learned that the woman brought that truck and those boxes."

Omar looked suspiciously at Ander as thousands of thoughts were forming in his mind.

"Why? Why would that woman do such a thing?"

Ander could not learn the answer to this question clearly. As his mind was in Omar's unconscious body, he immediately went to his room. So he didn't ask the reason for the food and beverage assistance. Ander just could assume that this was no ordinary aid, and that woman definitely want to money for those boxes. But that woman also knew that Omar had no money. Ander wondered even more what she wanted.

"I don't know. I couldn't ask it."

Omar let out a strong breath. Even if he hadn't done that, Ander could see how bored he was with this obscurity.

When he covered his face again, Ander thought he would no longer ask questions. So he repeated the unanswered question he asked atthe beginning.

"These things are not important, Omar... You're important. How do you feel?"

Omar noticed the wounds on Ander's face after that question.

He saw a large bruise on his left cheek, he saw something like a cloth barrel stuck above his left eyebrow. He could easily see the little dried blood on the tip of his lip. Although it didn't look as bad as yesterday, he couldn't bear to see Ander's face like this.

He remembered at that moment. He remembered he tocuhed his face yesterday, he put his head on his knees, and even Ander touced his face too. And that didn't drive Omar crazy, it made him feel like himself. It didn't make him feel dirty, it made him feel clean.

"I'm... thirsty."

Omar had such an evasive answer to Ander's question. Because he wasn't sure if he was feeling well yet. He could only feel mixed feelings. And when he started thinking of Ander, he started to forget about his other problems.

He even realized that Ander was sitting on the mattress the moment he got up. 

Omar knew why he didn't talk about each other when he could talk about business first. He wanted to ignore everything, he wanted to ignore everything he had experienced with Ander - his feelings and thoughts for him.

Omar's disregard for Ander's presence would have made his life easier. Since he wasn't leave even after yesterday, what was supposed to happen for him to leave?

"Take this..."

Ander said while handing Omar the half-full bottle of water he had taken from the tray on the table. He knew that he hadn't noticed the water bottle because he saw him being distracted, so he preferred to warn him by speaking.

Omar took the bottle slowly. For some reason, he didn't hesitate to make eye contact with him, and he understood that Ander wasn't comfortable with it.

It used to be like that. Ander avoided eye contact. It didn't matter what age he was for that, he was someone who thought that emotions were easily transmitted through eyes, and he always avoided doing so. Still, knowing this information about him had stirred a bitter feeling in Omar.

"I'll get something to eat." Ander said before stepping towards the door.

Omar's hand quickly reached towards Ander.

Still lying on the bed, Omar reached into Ander's hand close to him, without moving his body. Omar was trying to sanctify himself by saying he did it inadvertently, but he was actually happy to have done so.

"You're fine, aren't you?" Omar said without leaving Ander's hand.

The voices in his head were silent, but when he saw Ander's surprise, he thought what he was doing was wrong. He wanted to withdraw his hand. He couldn't.

"I'm fine." Ander held Omar's hand more tightly. "Ever since you woke up... I'm fine."

Although Omar did not want to admit himself, he held a human hand. He touched a person of his own will. He had deliberately and willingly held a person's hand. Not the hand of an ordinary person, he held Ander's hand. He had touched him.

Maybe Ander could heal him— Ander is healing him.

\---

Ander was going downstairs to get something to eat. He still could not completely realize that Omar touched his hand and was not disturbed by it.

There was a silly smile on his face, and an insane urge to laugh in him. He might even be grateful to Nano for what he had done to him, but he realized that when his chest was hurt while trying to laugh, he would definitely not be grateful to that human trash.

But there was nothing that could hinder his happiness.

The hope that grew as in his heart had taken hold of him completely, he believing that Omar could forgive him, even he believing that two can be the same as before. Ander needed him even more than he thought, if he sought so much meaning from even the slightest touches.

What prevented the smile on his face was the view he encountered when he entered the dining area. Christian, Rebeka, and Guzman looked like the new owners of the building. In this building, which is dear to Omar, despite being shabby and rundown, that trio behave in this way annoyed him.

Ander's aim was to grab any tray that had food directly and walk away. But it seems that Guzman had already noticed his existence.

"Hey!" He called out to Ander. He got up from his seat and went towards him. "Good Morning."

Ander thought that the man had no pride. After all that things, he was able to greet Ander so comfortably.

"It was a good morning for me before I saw you." He said it openly. He wanted him to see his attitude towards him.

Guzman chuckled. Ever since he got - stolen - his money he thought he deserved more than that attitude.

"Yeah... I understand..."

Ander spoke again as he exhaled and made a move to pass Guzman.

"Now I have to get something to eat if you let me."

Guzman reached out to him. He raised his voice a little.

"Actually I want to talk a few things..."

Ander looked at him pouting. He didn't particularly like being stopped by this man.

"I'm tired... Besides, I have nothing to talk to you about."

"You have!" Guzman chose to stop Ander by shouting. When Ander's face turned again to his own, he tried to speak more gently. 

"I stole your money. For example."

Ander approached Guzan's face. He spoke in anger, clenching his teeth.

"You betrayed my..." He could have kept that up as a friend, but he would have just deceived himself. He chose to continue the other way. 

"You betrayed Omar."

"That's why I want to talk!"

"I don't want to hear your shitty words." Ander turned his back on Guzman to get on his own way again.

Guzman instantly grabbed his arm. He started speaking quickly and loudly. There were already a limited number of people who could hear and understand him.

"I had to, okay? Since my father's company went bankrupt, I had to do this fucking job or I wouldn't have come to this shithole and start producing drugs."

"Produce drugs?"

This was what surprised Ander. It was the first time he heard this. Were they also producing drugs?

Guzman tried to stay calm as he exhaled a deep breath.

"Didn't you know?"

Ander shook his head and muttered. He was speaking in a callous voice.

"Nobody told me anything like that."

"Do you know that Omar is the one doing the drugs?"

When Ander felt the shock wave in his body, he could only shake his head in response.

"What kind of relationship do you have with Omar? You know almost nothing about him." Guzman understood that he had made a huge mistake in saying this by Ander's changing looks.

"This is none of your business, bastard!"

Guzman immediately started to express his regret for seeing his mistake.

"Ok, you're so right, it's my fault, I wouldn't say that."

Seeing Ander starting to listen to him again, Guzman returned to the point.

"I mean... I already had a job. I was working at my father's company. Even my sister was working there. But when the company went bankrupt, everything turned into one. I lost my job and came here. If I lost my wife, my family, it wouldn't make sense to come here."

"I still see no reason to betray Omar." Ander said coolly.

"My father is in jail. I needed money to get him out of there. My wife waiting for me at home… she is pregnant. I needed money for her. Sorry, everything had to happen as soon as possible."

Ander pointed to the woman behind him who was looking at them.

"Why didn't you ask for money from that woman? Or did you do business with her?"

Guzman chuckled helplessly. He knew very well that no one else would understand his situation except him, but he had to make a statement because being on the side of the betrayal disgusted him.

"Do you think that woman has a lot of money or something? She just doesn't do simple things like us. She manages those who do simple things like us, that's all. Also, she didn't even want to give the money she got from that delivery. I got rid of my group with the money I got from you, but I can't get rid of that woman."

Ander got even more angry, but he could only laugh.

"So you never give Omar's group the money I gave you?"

Guzman shook his head. 

"I never gave them money. I gave all the remaining money to Rebeka."

Ander looked at Guzman's face with disgust and muttered.

"Son of a bitch."

When Guzman was left with nothing to say, Ander had an important question to ask. He asked Guzman, while his eyes were on the woman staring at him at that moment.

"Why is that woman still here? What does she still want?"

Guzman started speaking more quietly.

"She knows Omar can do drugs. She wants to work with him."

Ander quickly turned to Guzman's face. He was staring at him with his scowled eyebrows and eyes darkening with anger.

"What are you talking about?"

"Rebeka will do the selling, Omar will produce."

"You asshole! You yourself got rid of that woman and now you're infecting Omar with her?"

Guzman took a few steps away from Ander. He was trying to calm Ander down with his words while making movements with his hands to calm him.

"Omar will continue to smuggle for his group anyway. If he works with Rebeka he will only do drugs. That woman will take care of everything else."

Ander laughed furiously at Guzman's words trying to justify him.

"So you yourself wanted to get rid of this shit hole and you did, but is it good for Omar to stay here and work with that woman?"

Guzman lowered his head and he did not answer.

Ander left a small giggle against his face. He took one of the food trays on the huge table. He turned his eerie glances at Rebeka and turned back to Guzman.

"Get the fuck out of here as soon as possible."

Ander walked away without looking back again.

\---

Ander quickly opened the door to Omar's room.

He didn't know how to climb the stairs. He suddenly felt like he had come into Omar's room. There was no reason actually for him to be so angry either, just everything that man had spoken to had turned his nerves.

When he put the tray in his hand on the table with a loud noise, he did not notice that Omar was sleeping on the mattress. If he had noticed, he might not have made such a big noise.

Omar reacted to his noise with his sleepy voice and he noticed that he was trying to sleep.

"What the hell?"

Ander didn't know with which question to start. Without opening the topic about Guzman, he opened his mouth to ask what was on his mind. Perhaps he would remember later that he had to apologize at first.

"Do you know how to do drugs?"

Omar looked at him as if he had said something strange. His eyes were quite tired and they were just opening.

"What did you say?"

Ander exhaled deeply. He took his eyes from where Omar was and looked around.

"Do you know how to do drugs?" He repeated his question. Every word was coming from his mouth out hard.

"Where did that idea come from?"

Ander raised his voice unintentionally.

"It is not matter!" Noticing Omar's strange glances at him helped him to lower his voice. "I just want to know. Do you know how to do drugs or not?"

"I felt more like you were interrogating me."

Ander bit his lips. He was standing and Omar was still lying in his mattress.

"No." He said in a monotonous voice. "Like I said, I just want to know."

"You lost your right to ask me questions... for years ago."

Omar moved his head a little from where he lay. He closed his eyes. He could hear Ander chuckle with anger, and that meant the conversation was not over yet.

"So you can ask me whatever you want but I can't ask you. Is that so?" He giggled again. His voice sounded quite combative.

"I didn't ask you anything about you!" Omar's voice sounded more angry than Ander's.

"You didn't?" His voice was rather low as he said this, but shouted what he said later. "When you asked me about tennis, weren't that questions about me?"

"I have the right to ask you questions!" He stood up a little in his bed. "You appeared out of nowhere. Fucking years later! You're in my building right now and I have the damn right to ask you questions!"

Ander realized that he had made a mistake the moment he thought Omar's anger could hurt him.

"OK, you're right, calm down. Please."

He leaned over to sit on the empty part of the bed. He realized that Omar was breathing deeply, but there was no sign of anger on his face. Ander opened his mouth to speak again.

"I know I lost my rights to you... But... I'm just worried about you, Omar. I'm just worried about you... There is no other explanation."

He stopped - he hesitated. He wanted to see if Omar would oppose him. Or whether he would say anything. But when he noticed that he was listening to him, he continued to speak.

"You've been stabbed. The people who do that are here and I can't do anything. I don't even understand why they did it and I don't understand why they believe they are right."

When he stopped again, he wanted to breathe. He didn't think he would watch him with so much attention.

"I can't touch you... Nobody can touch you. You don't tell why." He stared at him with pleading eyes. He didn't hesitate to make eye contact, but he could see that Omar wasn't looking into his eyes.

"You live in this shitty place, you do a shitty job." He pointed to the area around him. "Everyone is leaving here. But you can't. No! You're not going. I don't know why but you don't want to go. Why?"

Ander saw Omar's face and he felt that what he was talking about was meaningless. It was as if what he said did not reach him or was worthless to him. He was in despair. He bowed his head and walked away from her in the empty part of the mattress.

"I can't say. Because…" Ander heard the fragility of Omar's voice. He turned his head back to his side.

"I don't know how to say that. I don't know how to tell that moments. I don't know... I can't tell..."

Ander made a daring move. He reached out and grabbed Omar's hand.

"You can tell me. You know... You can tell me, Omar."

Omar's expression changed. Ander didn't understand what the problem was until then, and it wasn't long before he realized that he was breaking the ban on touching.

He wanted to take his hand away from him, and Omar grabbed his hand when he attempted.

"But…" Omar spoke in a tearful voice. "I can touch you... And that... It doesn't feel disgusting."

_No! It's disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting!_

_You can't touch him! Hands off!_

Omar turned his crying face to Ander looking in astonishment.

"You know that wrong. I can touch you anymore."

_You can't... it is disgusting..._

Ander timidly extended his hand to Omar's face. Ander pulled back as soon as Omar retreated reflexively. He asked with the same timidity.

"Can I touch your face?"

_He's purpose is not to touch you._

_He doesn't want to touch you. He wants to get you dirty! He will dirty you!_

Ander did this even though he was sleeping, but he did it just by touching his lips. He was awake anymore, he allowing Ander to touch him. And Ander asked with all the timidity on him. _Can I touch your face?_

_No! No! Nobody can do! People can't touch you!_

_Disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting!_

_It is supposed to be disgusting..._

Omar was breathing deeply, telling his brain that he was Ander, trying to silence it by telling it that it wasn't disgusting. But he didn't know why everything was different for Ander. He felt like he was in seven years ago for a moment.

Omar shook his head in answer to the question.

Ander slowly reached for his left cheek. He slowly ran his hand over Omar's cheek. He could hear Ander's hiccups, but he could also see the smile on his face.

Omar confessed suddenly. He wasn't sure if Ander could hear or hear, but he was looking in his face. He could see the tears flowing faster.

"I miss you too." 

Omar saw the little boy- man he fell in love with. The man who acts timidly and cautiously. The only man who cares what he feels. The only man who can get him out of the dirt he fell into.

The man who can keep the voices in him silent forever.

\---

  * **18 November 1991**



Omar clearly could not resist the intense desire in his small heart. Although he saw him yesterday, he needed to see him again. Moreover, he was wondering why he did not attend school. He needed to know if he was okay.

He had to see him - who the person with his new interest. He had to see the person who was friends with him - he had to see Ander.

Ander meant a lot to Omar in that short time. He held a big place in Omar's small heart.

It was a great advantage for both of them that the road to Ander's house was in the same direction as the road to Omar's house. Although Omar never had the opportunity to show Ander his home, he enjoyed walking the same path with him.

That day he was alone on the part of the road where he walked with Ander, but instead of worrying about it he had a greater worry: Should he knock on the door of Ander's house or the window?

He thought the door was not a viable option, as he still hadn't met his parents. So he moved to the window in Ander's room.

Since the curtains of Ander's room were open, he could see inside directly. Since his bed was adjacent to the window, he could not be sure if he was inside. He moved closer to the window. He held out his head through the pots.

He saw Ander's body napping on the bed.

He thought it might be best not to wake him up. An empty pot with no soil in it fell to the ground as he pulled his head back through the pots.

The pot with a slightly broken tip had made enough noise from the outside. Omar assumed that Ander did not hear that voice, but when he lifted the pot he encountered his confused face.

"What are you doing here?" Ander asked, taking his head out a little from the window. It was clear from his face, it was a big problem that Omar was there.

"Nothing. I just wondered if you were okay." Omar answered Ander's question before returning the pot. He was not offended in his question, but his facial expression was a little odd. 

Realizing that Ander was constantly checking his back, Omar continued his speech just before and asked the real reason why he came.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." Ander replied quickly.

Omar raised his eyebrow, questioning him.

"Why didn't you come to school then?"

Omar could not see the shape of his face because Ander was constantly looking back. The question he had just asked had stopped his neck that was constantly turning around.

"Did you mean that?"

Omar shook his head. "What else could it be?" He raised his voice a little and repeated his question, asking it more suspiciously. "Are you really okay?"

"I'm a little sick, my head sometimes doesn't understand what is said, sorry."

Ander's expression also seemed a little relaxed when Omar chuckled at what Ander said.

"You got a cold?"

"I think. I have a little fever." Ander said, trying to smile like him.

Omar moved towards the window. "Come closer to me."

Ander softly obeyed what he said. "What?"

Omar's hand went to Ander's forehead. Ander waited there until he did not withdraw.

"What are you doing?" Ander said while hiding his blushing face from Omar. Even if his fever passed, Omar had raised his fever again after touching him.

"I was checking if you had a fever." Omar turned his innocent gaze to Ander. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing is wrong." Ander muttered, but was still trying to hide his face. "Do I have a fever?"

"I didn't understand." Omar looked with a big smile - with that smile that unites with his face. "But your forehead was hotter than my hand."

Omar continued to speak when he could not get any response from Ander. "Maybe it's because I'm out."

"Maybe…" Ander muttered, still not making eye contact with Omar.

"But..." Omar raised his voice a little. "...Don't come to school without getting better."

Ander laughed brazenly. He didn't know why he had such a thing in mind, but he wanted to make that joke between friends because the two were too serious towards each other. Although he cannot make eye contact with him, he was able to pull his hand from his face.

"Don't you feel alone without me?"

"I feel a little…" Omar murmured. "But it's more important that you are okay."

Ander did not expect that answer. He certainly didn't expect him to say that. So he was surprised at how he would react to him. He was speechless.

Omar felt that he could not have anything more to talk about. He showed Ander his big smile again and made a move to keep going.

"I should go."

"I…" Ander spoke aloud. He had raised his voice as if he had forgotten what had troubled him. He just wanted Omar would look at him before he left.

"What?" Omar said when he took a few steps and returned to where Ander's window was.

"Thank you. For coming here. For worrying about me. And other things."

"It doesn't matter." He continued to speak, pointing to the flowerpot that had fallen on the floor only a few minutes ago. "I'm sorry for that. I can buy a new one if you want."

Ander laughed. This reminded him of the handkerchief he gave Omar. After staring at the pot for a while, he turned his face back to Omar.

"It doesn't matter too. It was already worn out." 

Omar shouted as he continued walking his path. 

"I'll buy one if you want anyway!" Before he disappeared from Ander's eyes, he waved to Ander. "See you later."

Ander's fear of being caught had also disappeared for some reason. Perhaps from then on he had left himself with the flow of Omar's existence.

\---

  * **28 October 2004**



Ander waited without bringing his other hand to Omar's face.

He was hungry, hungry to touch his face.  
He was happy, happy to let Omar touch him.  
He forgot, he forgot his mistakes. He forgot, he forgot his past.  
He wanted to touch more, touch more. He wanted to hold on to him more tightly, more tigtly. He wanted to embrace him, embrace him.

But he shouldn't be fast. He could scare him. He could have ruined everything. So he moved his hand slowly. He slowly touched his cheek. He wanted to enjoy it. He swallowed his hiccups.

He was sad, sad that he could not get his past back.  
He was unhappy, he could always touch him like that until today, but he chose to leave him and go. He was unhappy.  
He was regretful, he thought that what he chose would be good for him as a result. Other than Omar, he regretted everything he chose.  
He wanted to fix everything. He wanted to fix him, fix his future, fix their future. That shithole or any other place, he just wanted to live with him.

Ander swallowed his hiccups.

He heard Omar mutter as he slowly pushed the hand on his cheek. "That's enough."

Omar looked Ander with a little tired smile. "I have to get used to it."

Omar kept smiling when he released Ander's hand too. 

He was showing Ander his smiling face for the first time in a long time.   
It was the first time he had been truly looking at Ander for so long.  
He felt like... as if he really felt his presence at his side.

Omar wanted to touch the wounds on his face. He wanted to touch his face. He didn't think of a second possibility, he put his hand to his bruised cheek.

"Your face looks so bad." He said while he swallowed.

"Do I look ugly?" One of the sobs in Ander's throat spoke as he came out.

"No. Of course not." Ander saw a tear running down Omar's face. He wanted to clean it, he wanted to touch and wanted to keep his face dry. He just wanted to touch him to wipe his tear. But he could not put his hand to his face again. He was not going to rush. He would be content with hearing Omar's deep voice and feeling his hand on his cheek. "It looks like you're in pain."

"A little... But it will pass over time."

"If you say so..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my mistakes. Feel free to comment :)
> 
> I'm planing to finish 2004 and 1991 at the same time - in the same chapter. Then I will write what happened in 1992-1997, without writing the year 2005.


End file.
